Ember
by Lyo-Lyok
Summary: They were two neodymium magnets, tossed in the air, passing just close enough that they snapped together in a crackle of energy. Embry/OC, not a conventional love story.
1. Guenever

**A/N: **First, please review! It's cool if you just want to read, but reviews are awesome.

Second, this is a mild, mild AU. The only major detail which changed from Twilight canon is that Paul never imprinted (although Rachel and Rebecca still exist).

Third, this takes place in 2010; consequently there are a few years of events not in the books, which will be revealed as the story progresses.

Lastly, this story starts slow, but it picks up quickly after chapter two. So stick around for a few chapters at least!

Love, Lyo-Lyok

* * *

Prologue

He was staring again. Mollie could feel his eyes on the back of her neck from the library table two behind. It was blisteringly uncomfortable; she wished that he would turn away, and maybe if she ducked her head and ignored him he would. Focusing on the math problems on the table in front of her, surrounded by the sharp scratching of pencils and the low murmuring of voices, she almost forgot. But only for a minute, and then she peaked over her shoulder and he was still staring. He noticed, of course he did, and a ghost of a smile drifted over his lips as he nodded acknowledgment. Mollie ripped her head away, breaking the eye contact almost before it happened.

"I'm going," she muttered, kicking back her chair and tossing the pencil and calc worksheet into her book bag. The others at her table—Jess, Lindy, Jake, and Brett, who were almost friends but not quite_—_stared. She hated when they stared.

"Bye," said Brett. "Maybe catch you later?"

"Maybe."

The other four didn't speak until she was almost out of earshot. "Is she okay?" Harsh and loud. Lindy.

"It's James," whispered Jess in a hush.

"He's such an ass," said Brett. "He's got to know he's freaking her out."

"Mollie's freaking herself out," Jess murmured. Then Mollie really was out of hearing range, and she hurried along the dimly lit hallway.

"Hey, Mary Mollie!" shouted a passing sophomore. Mollie raised a hand in acknowledgment. The underclassmen had taken to calling her that, but she didn't really mind. She sort of liked it. Nicknames were a form of love. Her full name was Mary Guenever Ember, but she was Mollie to most. How her mom had named her, she wasn't entirely sure, but she had a distinct feeling she'd gotten off lucky. Her Aunt Anna was very fond of reminding Mollie that Helen Ember, up to the very last days of her pregnancy, had been determined to name her daughter after some Shakespearean heroine (_Gertrude _was Aunt Anna's favorite example).

The school day wasn't quite finished, but Mollie knew no one would mind if she left early. Forks High School was small and trusting, and seniors like Mollie were given a great deal of freedom. There was just one more thing she needed to do first.

"If it isn't Miss Mollie Ember!" The secretary smiled warmly as Mollie tiptoed through the administration office door.

"Hi, Mrs. Cope."

"Whatcha need?"

"Schedule change. My study period—it's just not working."

Mrs. Cope tilted backwards in her chair. "That's not one I hear often. Is there something else I should know about?"

"No, no," Mollie said hastily. At the secretary's look of disbelief, she added, "Really, Mrs. Cope. But I need it changed. Please?"

The older woman sighed. "Well, alright. But all we've got left that period is photography. Or I can just knock seventh period off your schedule altogether."

"Photography's fine. I can do photos."

Mrs. Cope made the necessary changes, then printed Mollie's new schedule. The printer jammed and Mrs. Cope smacked it several times before it whirred to life and spit out the paper. She rolled her eyes as she handed it to Mollie.

"Thanks, Mrs. Cope."

"Anything for you, Mary Mollie. Now get on with you," she said, and shooed the young woman out the door. Mollie immediately left the building, heading straight for her truck. Once she was in the cab seat, and the heat was turned on and she was waiting for the windows to defrost enough to see, Mollie realized she didn't know where to go. Her volunteer shift at the hospital wasn't for another hour and there weren't really any other places she went. It occurred to her that most other people her age went places and did things, but she wasn't exactly sure where they went or what they did. So she went home.

* * *

No one understood how hard Helen Ember tried.

She tried to be a good mother. She tried to be there when needed, and tactfully absent when not. She tried so hard it _hurt_. It just wasn't enough. She was never what Mollie needed, and she just couldn't figure out why.

Mollie was brilliant, more brilliant than anyone knew. But she struggled making human connections. Mollie needed friends, and Helen couldn't help her there.

The careworn forty-five-year-old braced herself against the kitchen sink and watched through the window as her daughter trudged up the snowy front walk, alone, head bent.

The yellow front door creaked open and her beautiful daughter walked in, and Helen leaned against the kitchen island and said nonchalantly, "I named you for a woman who was loved by the two greatest men of her time. She loved them both, maybe not equally, but she made a royal mess of it and spent a lot of her life horribly miserable. I thought she deserved a second chance, and maybe everything would be simpler and maybe stuff would work out. Mary Guenever Ember, I think you need a boyfriend."

There. Let her think on that. Satisfied, Helen Ember poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down to read the _Times_.


	2. Convergence

Chapter One: Convergence

Mollie wanted to be a doctor. That meant years and years of college and med school, though; in the meantime, the closest she could get was volunteering at the Forks Community Hospital. It wasn't exactly exciting work. Mostly, she cleaned bathrooms and mopped floors. Her volunteer shift was from four to eight every weekday afternoon. She never called in sick.

She was mopping the floor of the emergency room now. It was completely empty, which was a common situation in the town of three thousand, although the hospital served the surrounding communities as well. It was ironic, Mollie thought, that she was voluntarily spending so much time in the hospital when it was the hospital itself which had brought her to Forks in the first place.

Mollie had a genetic condition which produced unusually weak bones. It wasn't brittle bone; it wasn't anything any doctor had seen before. Neither was it likely to kill her, and with the aid of several medications, it was entirely manageable. But she'd been breaking bones more frequently in the past few years—her right arm twice in the past year alone—so two years ago her mother had moved them from their rural home by Wentworth lake into Forks itself. It wasn't so bad, although Mollie missed home school.

Dr. Cullen walked in just as Mollie finished drying the clean floor. He smiled warmly at her. "Slow business today."

"That's a good thing, considering the business we're in," commented Dr. Bean, rushing in just behind him. She grabbed a surgical mask from a box, spit out her gum in it and tossed it in the waste bin. "Hey, Mollie."

"Hi, Dr. Cullen. Hi, Dr. Bean," said Mollie.

"Carlisle," said Dr. Cullen

"Kelly," said Dr. Bean.

"Mollie," said Mollie.

"That's your name," agreed Dr. Bean. "Smart kid. Hey, Carlisle, do you mind if I leave a bit early? It's six now, and I'd get off in half an hour anyway, but I have a date at nine."

"With—oh, who was the last one? Jeb?" asked Dr. Cullen, raising an eyebrow. Mollie knew he disapproved of Dr. Bean's dating habits.

"His name was Jens, and I dumped him. Lousy sex and no sense of humor."

"Well, go ahead," sighed Dr. Cullen. "Mollie and I can hold down the fort until the night shift arrives."

"Thank _you_! I'm out," said Dr. Bean and she zipped out of the emergency room. She hadn't even left the hospital campus when Mollie and Carlisle heard a crash just outside.

"Oomph!"

"Hey, watch it!"

"Carlisle, we have _injured _people!"

Mollie was laughing softly when the big glass doors swung open and in came two immensely tall and bulky Quileute men, the larger of whom was cradling a russet-skinned woman with a swollen ankle to his chest, which was bare.

"Oh, God, Kim, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear. You know I didn't mean to, right? Please tell me you know that," he groaned. "Jared's going to kill me, isn't he?"

"Probably," the woman agreed, "but I'll put in a good word for you anyway. I know it wasn't your fault."

"Maybe it's not broken?" he said hopefully.

"It's broken, Embry," said the smaller man. "Sorry, man. You too, Kim, although I reckon you got off lighter than Emb will."

"Again, probably," agreed the woman. "But while Embry may hurt later, my ankle hurts now. Can we take care of it, please?"

"Of course, Ms. Connweller," said Dr. Cullen, hurrying forward for the first time.

Embry placed Kim gently on the operating table. Dr. Cullen approached slowly; the smaller man growled, but Embry silenced him. "Shut up, Brady."

"Ms. Connweller, I need to run an X-ray," said Dr. Cullen

The Quileute woman shrugged. "Sure."

"Mollie, grab the lead blanket," the doctor ordered as he helped Kim into a wheelchair and pushed her over to the X-ray generator.

When the X-rays appeared on the wall-mounted monitor, Dr. Cullen gave them a fleeting glance. Then he asked, "Mollie, what do you see?"

Mollie studied the picture. While she knew that Dr. Cullen could glean all the information he needed from a second-long glance, she couldn't. Finally, she said, "There isn't any fracture."

"So?" the doctor prompted.

"So, it's a sprain, or—it's a sprain."

"Very good. Now, Ms. Connweller, all I can prescribe for you is rest and ice. That, and crutches, because I doubt you'll want to put any weight on that ankle any time soon."

"Will do," said Kim. She cocked her head, glancing at Mollie. "You're not Quileute, are you? Only, I haven't seen you on the rez."

"Maybe half," murmured Mollie. "I don't really know."

"Oh." Helen Ember was white, but her daughter certainly wasn't. Mollie had russet skin, full lips, wide cheekbones and long, wispy black hair. Her features contained only a nod to those of her mother—hazel eyes and a small, rounded nose. Mollie wasn't sure who her father was, and she wasn't entirely sure Helen knew either. It wasn't something they talked about.

Kim looked stricken. Mollie wondered if the other woman thought she'd said something offensive. "Don't worry, I'm not touchy about the whole bastardy thing," she assured her. Embry hid a laugh behind a choked cough. Then he looked up, and he and Mollie made eye contact.

It was like a magnetic snap, Mollie decided in the eternity that followed. She felt so drawn to him. She didn't know why. But her cheeks went red from embarrassment, and she ducked her head, breaking the connection first. When she peeked shyly back up, he was still staring.

"Hi," he said. "What's your name?"

"Mollie," she squeaked.

"Mollie," he breathed back. "Mollie—?"

"Ember," she squeaked again. Why was she squeaking?

Brady looked mildly embarrassed, but Kim looked back and forth between Mollie and her friend with a tangible air of excitement. "Oh, Embry, you didn't! You did! Oh my god, I am _so_ happy for you! And you," she added, smiling at Mollie. "I just _know _we'll be friends!"

"Calm down, Kim," muttered Brady. "Jeez. Don't scare her off before Emb does."

"I don't understand," said Mollie quietly. Instantly, four sets of eyes were riveted on her. Her own eyes fixed immediately on the chocolate brown pair directly opposite, but it was Dr. Cullen, not Embry, who answered.

"I imagine everything will make sense in time," he said gently. But then he turned to Brady and gave a loaded stare.

It must have meant something to the Quileute teenager because he immediately grabbed Embry and said, "C'mon, man. Let's go." When Embry didn't move, Brady cuffed his ear and said louder, "Now." Embry stumbled backwards unwillingly, eyes fixed on Mollie. "_Now_." There was a force of command in the word that made everyone flinch, but even so Brady had to wrestle Embry out the doors, down the concrete steps and into the woods.

* * *

Once safely concealed by the trees, Brady and Embry stripped and phased. Immediately, they were surrounded by the heaving, pulsing, living motion of the packmind. Embry loved the feeling of interconnectedness, even if it came at the price of baring his thoughts and secrets out in the open for all his brothers (and sisters, Leah reminded him) to see. It made him better as a man, knowing that his hidden shames and mistakes would be laid out in the open.

Embry had only a split-second's warning before Brady lunged at him, but that was all he needed. _What the hell?_

_You ass,_ growled Brady. _You just had to, didn't you?_

_ I did._

Brady sighed, knowing that was the truth. _Jake's gonna be pissed. We're stretched tight enough now, but throw in another imprint, __who doesn't even live in La Push __. . ._

_ I won't let it affect my patrols,_ assured Embry.

_Let what affect what? _asked Leah, jumping into the conversation. _Wait—you did what? On who? Oh, not another one._ The she-wolf groaned. _I'm so sick of you lovestruck morons. Fuck, Embry. There goes _your _life._ _And part of mine, _she said mournfully, her mind flashing to images of her last tryst with Embry. The pack collectively recoiled, and a clamor of voices penetrated Embry's brain.

_Leah, yuck, _said Seth._ You did what with Embry on my bed? Don't answer that, _he appended hastily.

_ We cleaned up,_ Leah said smugly.

_Embry, man, not cool, _groaned Seth. _Just—not cool. _

_ It won't happen again,_ Embry promised distractedly. All he could think about was his imprint. Her hair, her lips, her blush. The way she talked. She probably had a nice singing voice.

_Whipped,_ chorused the younger wolves collectively. Embry sent a mental glare through to the five twelve-year-olds.

_I'm thirteen, _Nick reminded him.

They didn't understand women, Seth informed the pups. When they were older they would understand Embry's pain.

_I understand women, _protested Nick. _I banged a girl from my history class two weeks ago._

Seth retracted his previous statement. The younger wolves would never understand women, not even at Seth's venerable age of nineteen. Now, who was Embry's imprint?

_Mollie Ember, _supplied Brady. _She volunteers at the hospital with Dr. Leech._

The packmind immediately agreed that she should be removed from that situation as soon as possible. _What else do we know about her?_

_ Nothing,_ Embry sighed.

_Kim's probably doing reconnaissance right now,_ suggested Seth, sifting through Embry and Brady's memories.

_True,_ agreed the packmind.

_Embry, you're coming back to La Push now. Brady, stay with Kim, _ordered Seth. Embry resisted briefly.

_But I wanted to—_

_No__. _Seth applied more weight and Embry caved to the beta-command. _You'll see your imprint later, but Jake needs to know now. _Seth snickered. _Have fun with that. You know he gives all the imprinted wolves a sex talk, right?_

Embry knew.

* * *

"Well!" said Kim brightly. "How about those crutches?"

"Of course," said Dr. Cullen smoothly. He left, and Mollie, sensing that the moment was over, tried to disappear. No such luck.

"Hey, Mollie," asked Kim. "Do you live around here?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"By the school."

"Oh? You go to school there?"

"Yeah."

"Have a boyfriend?" she asked innocently.

Mollie looked up sharply. "No."

"Hmm. Ever had one?"

Mollie blushed. "No."

"Me neither, until I met Jared," said Kim cheerfully. "He's my boyfriend."

"Oh."

"He's hot," continued Kim. "So's Embry. They're like brothers. You saw Embry, right? He's single too."

"Is he?"

"Yep. He's really funny. And hot. And he likes to read. Do you like to read? You look like the kind of girl who likes to read. What's your favorite book?"

"That's an unfair question to ask someone who loves books, Ms. Connweller," said Dr. Cullen, re-entering the emergency room.

"That's true," agreed Kim. "Are those my crutches?"

"If they fit," Dr. Cullen promised. "And if they don't, we'll find you another set which does." Just then, the glass doors swung open and Brady stalked in, without Embry.

"Hi, Brady!" called Kim. He grunted when he saw her proximity to the doctor. He scared Mollie, a bit. "Down, boy!" Kim instructed, sighing. "Leave the good doctor alone." So it _was_ Dr. Cullen that the teen was reacting to. Mollie wondered why, but she didn't dare ask.

"I was just telling Mollie about our friend Embry," Kim prompted.

"Yeah . . . Embry." Brady looked uncomfortable."Embry's cool."

"And single," said Kim.

"That . . . that too."

"Do you remember that one time, at the beach, when Embry said—oh, what was it he said, Brady? It was funny."

"I don't remember."

"Oh, well, that's too bad. It made me laugh _so _much."

"Yeah."

"Hey, Mollie, we're having a bonfire at the beach on Friday. You should come."

Mollie blinked. "I'll think about it." She wouldn't go.

"You really should come. You're very pretty, did you know?"

Mollie stuttered in reply, but was saved the awkwardness of replying when Brady gently propped Kim up on the crutches and steered her towards the door. He murmured in apology, "Sorry 'bout that. Kim's kind of, uh, effusive. See you around." Kim waved as Brady herded her out the door.

When the tinted glass finally swung shut, Mollie leaned back against the counter, exhausted. She noticed Dr. Cullen staring at her, concerned, and maybe a bit sad. "I feel like something important just happened," she admitted, "but I don't understand what or how."

There was definitely a tinge of sadness in the look he gave her now. "Monumental events don't always seem as such when they're happening. Often it's only later that we can see all the consequences and repercussions."

"And how many monumental events have you lived through, Dr. Cullen?" Mollie teased.

"Oh, not many, but a few. I know them when I see them, most of the time."

"And did you see one?" she asked, curious.

The young doctor met her eyes, and Mollie noticed for the first times how oddly old he seemed. "Maybe," he said with a reassuring smile at odds with his worried face. "Or maybe not."

"I thought I felt something, but I'm—I'm not sure now."

"Time will tell."

"Will it? You said things often make sense in time, but . . ."

"Often they do. Although, sometimes, all time does is blur the details. I have a few memories like that."


	3. Apparitions at Midnight

Chapter Two: Apparitions at Midnight

"Hey," James Wilson said, brushing his overgrown black hair from his eyes. "I'm James."

Oh, please, she was _not _blushing. She was? Well, that would just be her luck, wouldn't it, Mollie thought.

"You're Mollie, right?" They were waiting in the lunch line in the small cafeteria, in a small island of empty space surrounded by the dull roar of the student body. Mollie couldn't pretend she hadn't heard him, though.

So she said, "Yes," and there it could end.

Except it didn't. He followed her through the cafeteria, watched as she added a turkey sandwich and an apple to her tray, walked with her to her lunch table. He didn't try to sit with her, only tapped her lightly on the shoulder and said, "See you around."

The people at her lunch table gawked. "You just—James Wilson. Jeez," said Lindy. "I haven't seen you interact with a boy who wasn't Brett or Jake, since well, ever." Mollie hadn't told anyone about her encounter with Embry from the day before.

"You did very well," said Jess approvingly.

"She didn't do anything. She let him do everything." Lindy snorted. "I swear, Mollie. You're so socially inept. You should just let him fuck your brains out, and then maybe you'd be able to talk to him. Call it an icebreaker."

Mollie's cheeks heated. "I don't think I'll be doing that."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Lindy. "_I _would."

"You wouldn't," snorted Jake. "You're not nearly as much of a slut as you pretend to be."

"Oh, really?" she taunted. "Want to find out?"

"Shut up," ordered Brett. He pegged Lindy on the chin with a wet kidney bean.

"So, Brett, plans for the weekend?" said Jess, determinedly steering the conversation from the previous topic.

"None." He shrugged. "You?"

"Shopping in Port Angeles," she said brightly. "You should come!" Brett groaned as the rest of the group snickered.

"No. Just no."

"Suit yourself. Mollie, got plans? Or are you coming with me?"

"I . . . a girl named Kim invited me to a bonfire at First Beach," she offered. Why had she said that? No one needed to know. In fact, she wasn't sure it even had been an invitation. It was really more of a suggestion. Or a comment.

"On Saturday?"

"Friday."

"Well, then you can still go shopping on Saturday with me. You up for it?"

"Um."

"Well, think about it, at least. And let me know," said Jess. She smiled. "And who's Kim?"

"I met her yesterday. She lives on the Quileute reservation," said Mollie. "She sprained her ankle, and some friends of hers brought her to the emergency room while I was volunteering. We—she—talked."

"Kim Connweller?" asked Brett. "I know her. Isn't she dating the hulk?"

"His name is Jared," volunteered Mollie.

"Did he bring her in?" asked Jess.

"No. It was two other boys. Brady and—and Embry." Oh, Embry. And here came the subject she'd been studiously avoiding for the past twenty hours. She knew she'd felt something, and she thought maybe he did too. When their eyes met, _something _happened. But that was silly. Only now that she'd allowed herself to think about it, she couldn't stop. She didn't even remember much of how he looked. Just how he felt, from across the room. Warm, like a hug. Like he meshed with her somehow. Two neodymium magnets, tossed in the air, passing just close enough that they _snap! _together in a crackle of energy.

"Mollie, Mollie are you okay?"

"She's crying again. Why's she crying?"

"I'm fine," she said. _Pull yourself together, girl._ "But I have to go. Maybe I'll see you later."

Jess followed her to the waste station, where they dumped their food and trays. Then then she pushed Mollie down a series of hallways and into the girl's locker room. It was empty, but Jess checked anyway, and then she locked the door behind them. She waited patiently while Mollie washed her face in the bathroom. When Mollie was done, she pulled her onto the locker bench beside her.

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Yes," Mollie admitted. "But I'm not sure exactly what."

Jess cracked a smile. "Well, when you figure it out, I'm here."

They sat together, side by side on the wooden bench, until the warning bell rang, and when they left the locker room Brett was waiting outside just across the hall, and the three fell silently in step as they walked to calc. It was nice having—well, whatever they were. Friends.

* * *

To Embry's heightened wolf-nose, the old garage smelled like oil, metal and leather, but also strawberry shampoo, spruce trees and pack. Jake and Embry co-owned the auto body shop just outside of Forks, but most of the older wolves worked at least part time there. Embry and Jake were working mechanically, fitting new doors on a complete wreck of a 1996 chevy impala. Embry wondered if Mollie liked cars.

"Thinking about her?" asked Jake. "It's not like you thought it would be, right?"

"No," admitted Embry. "It isn't at all." Jake understood. He was, after all, imprinted himself, on the pre-adolescent girl with the long bronze curls who was currently sitting with Emily Uley in the office, sorting through the books.

Neither Embry nor Jake spoke for a while after that. It was a comradely silence; they had nothing to say but were comfortable with where they stood. Jake cursed when his phone rang, but when he saw the caller id he flipped it open and answered. "Yo, leach." Then immediately, "Aw, Bella, you know I didn't mean it like that." Pause. "Yeah, whatever. Put him on." Jake flipped the phone to speaker but turned the volume down to the lowest setting. "What?"

"You don't need to do this, Jacob," said a smooth, velvety voice. "We have everything under control."

Jake snorted. "Sure you do, dead man."

In a long suffering tone, "You are interfering with Alice's sight. Leave the rogues alone. We'll take care of them."

"They _killed_ a man in Hoquiam two days ago," Jake said sharply. "I won't allow it, Edward."

"They won't hunt on your lands again," Edward promised. "Carlisle knows Emelyan. He and his mate are only passing through. They will not come back."

"They'll hunt somewhere else, then," said Jake. "We're taking them out."

A pause. "That would be a mistake," Edward said finally. "How badly do you want to lose a wolf?"

"Yeah, right. I might not have gone to college, but I can count. They have two. I have twenty."

"This coven isn't one you could take out with a hundred wolves. Let them go."

"No."

Another pause. Finally, "I'm putting Bella back on."

Jacob groaned. "Oh, no, you're not trying that one on me. Sorry, no. I'll drop Nessie off at eight. I'm out."

"Jake—"

Jake snapped the phone shut. In the office, Nessie and Emily paused and peaked out the window. "Right," said Jake brightly. "Who wants ice cream?"

Embry and Jake ate a gallon of Neapolitan each. Nessie had a scoop from Jake's tub, but what she really wanted was blood. So she fed from Jake's wrist while Embry looked away, disgusted, and ashamed of his disgust. As an imprint of the pack, Embry had a strong urge to protect her, but almost as strong was his ingrained need to kill Cold Ones. _In an easier world she'd be human and so would I. In an easier world she'd be Jake's daughter and I'd be her Uncle Embry._

They didn't live in an easy world, Embry decided, scraping the last smears of vanilla from the plastic tub. He forced himself to watch Nessie finish feeding. When she was done, she wiped the blood from her mouth, then drew a folded paper from her back pocket and tugged shyly on Jake's arm. Then Embry stretched out his arms and stood with a groan. "I gotta go."

"Later, man," said Jake before returning to the drawing Nessie was showing him. Embry stole a quick glance at it before he left. Most three-year-olds drew shapeless blobs with fat crayons, leaving their parents to compliment the picture while simultaneously attempting to figure out what it was; only Nessie would draw a scale model of what Jacob's skull might look like, approximated from clandestine measurements of his face. Embry chuckled.

As soon as he was in the trees he phased wolf. Collin and Nick were patrolling now around the edges of La Push. He touched base with Collin, briefly. An unarticulated question passed between them. It meant something along the lines of _Is there danger? Is everything as expected? _Or perhaps, _Are our mates and families safe?_

Collin appraised his surroundings before he answered. Embry caught a flash of the yellow Clearwater house, and then trees. _Yeah, we're good_, Collin said. _And don't talk to Nick. _He snickered, communicating an image of twelve-year-old Eli nursing a bleeding tail and the pale speckle-furred wolf Nick stalking off haughtily, ears flat.

_Again?_

_ Twice. He got Leah too, __and Seth had to lay down a beta-command. It's his fucker of a dad. He's been at it again._

Nick scowled through the packmind, knowing that Collin and Embry were discussing him. He hated people talking about him and it rankled him that they pitied him so much. Yes, his dad beat him, he thought defiantly at Embry and Nick, and one day he'd kill the bastard in return. _Now back off._ The wash of pity was sharper this time, and Nick's wolf lashed out at his brothers, snapping and snarling through the mental link. Embry retreated and phased human. He'd give Nick what little privacy he could, then.

Although he knew Nick was embarrassed by their pity and ashamed of his life, Embry couldn't help but feel sorry for the younger boy. It wasn't easy living like that, with an absent mother and an abusive, alcoholic father. Embry saw it too often with rez kids whose families had no money, no opportunities, and little love between them. He stifled a growl. Nick Mora might want to kill his father, but Embry might get there first. Nick was a good kid when he wasn't being beaten down and Embry liked him.

The door was open when Embry jogged up the wooden steps to his house. That meant mom was home. At twenty, Embry still lived with his mother, although not in his childhood home and he owned the house. It was a situation which worked out reasonably well for both of them. Neither Mrs. Call's small salary as the secretary of the fishing resort nor Embry's paycheck from the auto shop was enough to pay for a house on its own, but together, and supplemented by Embry's 'werewolf stipend' from the Elders, they squeaked by.

Mom was sitting in the tiny living room when he walked in. She didn't look at him, despite the carefully measured noises he was sure to make, knowing how much she hated him sneaking in silently. "Hi, mom."

She still wouldn't look at him, but finally she said, "You left again last night."

Shit. He had. And he'd leave again, tonight, but how was he supposed to tell his mom that he had patrol every night until the vampires were dead or gone, when she didn't even know he was a werewolf?

"You said you wouldn't," she cried, her voice breaking. "You promised me."

"I know. But mom, I—"

"Don't do that!" she screamed. "You promised, and you went anyway. What's so wrong with staying in your bedroom all night and sleeping? Or at least, tell me if you're going to go out. Why do you have to sneak around?"

"I'm sorry, mom, but I'm—"

"—an adult, I know," she finished bitterly. "Just go." Embry went. He didn't look back, so he never saw her mournful eyes following him up the narrow stairs.

Embry's relationship with his mother was unstable at best. In fact, Liana Call was unstable at best. He had begun to recognize her problems long before he first phased, but that change had only magnified her deficits and brought out her very worst.

It was partly his fault; nightly patrols since he was sixteen had forced him to sneak out his window to evade his mother, leaving her wondering where she had gone wrong as a parent. It was hard on any mom, to see her child lying to her face, slowly failing in school, evading her, abandoning her. But Liana was a single mother; everything was harder on her. Embry was all she had in the world and she felt like she was losing him.

True, it was cruel, but the secret had to be kept, and even Embry agreed that it was too dangerous for her to know. And if Liana felt like she was losing her son, phasing had made Embry wonder if he'd ever really had his mother. He'd always assumed his father was Makah and maybe an abusive bastard like Nick's dad, and that was why they left. But then he phased and learned that couldn't possibly be true. The wolf genes could only be passed through the Quileute, and because Embry was half Makah, his wolf gene must be incredibly strong. This meant his father was almost certainly a direct male-line descendent of Taha Aki—in other words, Billy Black, Quil Ateara IV, or Joshua Uley. So Liana Call had cheated with a married man, then moved to La Push to be near him. And once there, she had ignored him for twenty years. Embry knew his mother was clingy, spiteful and flighty, but it hurt to see her flaws spread out before him like an open book.

It was good that the thick upstairs carpet muffled his stomping feet, Embry thought as he trudged into his room, because he really didn't want another confrontation with Liana. He threw himself face first onto his bed, which was far too short for his large frame. Sleep was something of a precious commodity these days—hell, he hadn't slept a full night since before school started for the younger wolves. Tonight wasn't an exception.

Embry untangled himself from his pillows to set his alarm for one a.m. Then he paused, contemplating. Next to the alarm clock on his desk were three framed pictures. The first showed Embry and his mom; the second, with Jake and Quil; the third, with his brothers and sisters of the pack. Each showed something he cared deeply about. Soon, maybe, he would add a fourth picture. In a pink frame, maybe. Didn't girls like pink?

Embry fell asleep dreaming of Mollie Ember.

* * *

What was it about Embry that wouldn't let her forget him? It was incredibly frustrating to Mollie that she couldn't answer this simple question. Mollie liked direct answers, accurate and easily available. Puzzles were fun, but only so long as she could solve them, and she didn't think she was making any progress on this one.

Mollie sighed and stomped over to the window. She opened it, letting the frigid November air circulate through her small first-floor bedroom. There was snow falling tonight, and she slid open the screen and stuck her hand outside, letting the icy flakes fall and melt on her clenched fist. On an impulse, she stuck her entire head outside the window. The night was dark and cloudy and the moon—a fat, yellow waxing gibbous—was low, just visible on the tops of the trees. The Ember home was on the very edge of the forest.

Just as Mollie pulled her head back inside, a flash of movement on the edge of the tree line caught her eye. She abruptly jerked her head up, banging it against the heavy glass window. "Aah!"

Rubbing her head, she scowled at the shape in the darkness. It slunk closer, and she could see now—it was a wolf. But not one like she'd ever seen before; it was easily six feet tall at the shoulder, lanky and graceful. "I didn't think they made wolves like that," Mollie whispered, her breath turning into a cloud of white steam as she spoke. The wolf stared at the house. Then it howled eerily and turned on its tail, disappearing into the trees.

In the split second that followed, Mollie decided something which she later realized ranked high among the stupidest things she'd ever done. She grabbed her parka and a flashlight, and then she climbed out her window to follow the wolf.

The wind was biting on her cheeks and nose, and the snowflakes settled in her hair and on her eyelashes. The flashlight went on immediately. Right in front of her, where the wolf had been, was a disturbed patch of snow, but no animal tracks. It looked brushed over. Something or someone had obviously been here but didn't want anyone to know who or what it was.

But that was crazy, for a wolf. Mollie wasn't an animal behavior expert by any means, but she knew that wolves weren't that smart. Mollie followed the swept-track path as it led farther and farther into the woods. Then suddenly, it stopped. Mollie's flashlight was weak; all she could see in any direction was more uniform forest, and then her own faint and swiftly disappearing tracks back the way she came.

When the snow started seeping into her toes and her feet felt wet and numb, Mollie realized she was only wearing slipper boots. It was so, so cold. She twisted around, looking for her trail of footsteps. But the snow was blowing wildly, and she couldn't see anything. This was stupid. Incredibly stupid. She hadn't found the wolf, and now she was lost.

Mollie fumbled for her cell phone, but something hard and rounded bumped her at shoulder level and she shrieked and dropped it. Scrambling around in the snow for her only lifeline to civilization wasn't high on Mollie's list of _Things I Want to Do at Two AM_, but she needed that phone. Eventually she founded it.

Just as she was standing back up, the object bumped her again and then extended its tongue and _licked _her and she realized it was a snout—a wolf snout. Big wolf. Wild wolf. Silky silver wolf, and pretty—no. Back away slowly. Now that she'd found what she was looking for, she wasn't sure if she'd rather not have. Scratch that, she knew she'd rather not.

Matching Mollie step for step, the wolf edged forward and then bumped her a third time. "You're awfully tame, for a wolf," she said cautiously. The wolf nodded eagerly and licked her again. She tentatively reached forward and scratched his ear. The wolf whined softly. Then it tossed its head and plodded a few steps left. Mollie watched it regretfully. She didn't really want to be left alone now that she knew it was friendly. But the wolf paused where it was and whined and tossed its head again. "You want me to . . . follow you?"

The wolf flapped its head exuberantly. Mollie decided to abandon her common sense and just go with it. Some intuitive feeling told her that this wolf knew what it was doing. So she followed. The silver wolf paused and looked backwards every few steps as if to make sure she was still there. She must have gone farther than she remembered on the way in, because by a certain point they'd been walking for half an hour with no sign of a stop. Just when she was beginning to doubt the wolf's sense of direction, she began to see more familiar trees and rocks and she knew they were nearing the Ember house.

Then she tripped. It was a root, or a rock, maybe, but in any case it sent her tumbling to the ground and rolling down a shallow hill. She hit the bottom at an awkward angle and a sickening _crack_ echoed through the otherwise silent forest. On the ground by her face was her cellphone; it must have fallen from her pocket. She tried to reach for it but her arm wouldn't cooperate, and her leg just hurt so much.

The second-to-last thing Mollie remembered was warmth, which was funny given the situation, but not that funny because it was a symptom of hypothermia and Mollie really didn't want to die. The last thing she remembered was being rocked back and forth and a voice murmuring, "Shh, shh. You'll be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

* * *

Life could become exceedingly tiring when given eighteen centuries to run its course, but Anastasia was not yet tired of fucking Emelyan. She arched into his thrusts and they screamed together as they wrestled on the snowy forest floor. When they were done, Emelyan dressed in the clothes of the dead hiker whose body, already drained, they had crushed in their lovemaking, but Anastasia remained naked.

She was small and lithe with flowing black hair and Mediterranean features. Her skin was as white and hard as that of her mate. Constant movement had kept her from ossifying; she had not sat on a throne since the early days of her first life. Emelyan was fond of recounting the years he impersonated a dead Tsar and nearly stole the crown of Imperial Russia, but Anastasia really had been a princess, in the long ago and far away.

Emelyan was big for a vampire and ugly. Anastasia once told him he looked like a baboon, or maybe just a Russian peasant. Emelyan laughed and said slyly he _was _a peasant, when he wasn't a Romanov. He was young, too, for a vampire. Back in his long ago and far away, she changed him from what little he had been into the creature he was now. Her own creator was long destroyed. Anastasia hadn't ripped his head off herself, but she had thrown it into the flames.

Naked and gleeful, she hurled herself on the forest floor and rolled through the snow. Anastasia left a palpable trail of destruction in her wake and where she struck the trees. A rough granite hand descended on her breast. She froze for an instant, breathing with Emelyan and the earth. Then she ran, fleeing from her lover into the icy night, laughing softly all the way. Eventually she let Emelyan catch her and throw her to the ground. They fought and bit and scratched, and they wrestled again in the snow, this time stopping not even for the sun.

When they finally resurfaced, Emelyan caught a hiker and they both fed. Then without a word they turned northeast and ran. Seattle was waiting.


	4. Wolf Hunting, Covert

Chapter Three: Wolf Hunting, Covert

Seattle was quieter and smaller than many cities Anastasia had seen. It was newer, too. Vienna was old and great, Kiev older and greater still, and Rome the oldest and greatest of any city where Anastasia once lived. But for the purpose of hunting, Seattle was as good as any and better than some.

Eyes rolling into the back of his skull, the unfortunate homeless man gave a strangled gasp as Emelyan snapped his head back by the ear and sank his venom-coated teeth into the human's neck. Anastasia watched impassively. She herself hadn't eaten; Emelyan's appetite was greater than hers and his control far less impeccable. So it was Anastasia who first noticed when the other coven came.

Emelyan dropped the deflated body just as Anastasia called, "Seattle is not claimed."

Four white forms dropped from the rooftops above, landing in tight formation in front of the mated pair. Three red-eyed vampires—one a newborn—dropped to a tense crouch behind the coven leader. She was tall, slender, radiated authority, and was possibly Vietnamese. "We claim it," she said smoothly. "And you have hunted on our territory."

"Peace," said Anastasia. "We are passing through. Two days, no longer."

"This is unacceptable," said the coven leader. Anastasia examined her closely. She couldn't have been older than a decade, but there was something about her which the ancient vampire liked very much. Anastasia felt her mate's hand on the small of her back and withdrew, letting Emelyan take the lead.

"What is your name, child?" said Emelyan benevolently. He was using his gift of powerful persuasive speech, a talent which had before taken in vampires hundreds of years older and many times more powerful than the young woman from Seattle.

"Butterfly," she answered breathlessly, succumbing.

"Won't you let us feed here, Butterfly?" he asked. "We are not a threat to your coven. We are only nomads on our way to Canada."

Butterfly appeared ready to acquiesce, but then she grabbed the neck of the male coven-mate on her left for support; her face immediately stiffened and she growled, "No. And I want _her_ to do the talking from here on out, old man."

"As you wish," he agreed affably. "But it was worth a try. You are gifted too, are you not?"

"Stop talking!" she barked. "My gift is my own."

"Is it? You draw strength from your coven-mates, yes? How fragile," Emelyan said, "for if I were to—" and he darted lightening fast to the crouching vampire on Butterfly's right, dragged him away from his coven and tore his head off. He drew a lighter from his pocket and burned the body where it lay. The head he saved from the flames; the screams it emitted were ghastly.

Butterfly and her remaining coven-mates froze, transfixed by the fire and pain, but Emelyan smiled and breathed deeply. "You are much diminished," he said softly. "Has your mind changed?" He left the lighter lit.

"You'll regret carrying that thing around one day, old man," Butterfly growled. "You're flammable too."

Emelyan shrugged. "Perhaps. On the other hand..." In an instant he was at Butterfly's side, she in a chokehold with the lighter to her throat.

Butterfly seethed underneath her fear. "You have my permission to hunt."

Emelyan withdrew instantly to Anastasia's side. He bowed formally at the raging coven leader. "Our thanks. We will take care not to disrupt your normal feeding patterns. Our effect on the herd will be minimal."

"See that it is."

Emelyan bowed again, and then all five vampires disappeared into the night.

* * *

Oh, god, her ankle hurt. Mollie woke up on an uncomfortable bed in a clean white room. The only light streamed in through a large square window, but the sun must have been on the opposite side of the building, because it was too dim for Mollie to see much. Where was she? She opened her mouth to ask, but only a garbled jumble came out.

"Hey, she's awake!" someone whooped. "Hey doc, she's awake!" The lights were switched on and the door flung open, heavy feet running out of the room and down a hall. When Mollie's eyes adjusted she recognized the room as one of the Community Hospital. Well, shit. What on earth had happened? Bits and pieces drifted back to her until she thought she had a reasonably clear idea of the last night's events. She'd gone looking for a giant silver wolf—stupid—and fallen down a hill—stupider—and somehow ended up in the hospital with what felt horribly like a broken ankle.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Mollie watched the door, waiting for someone to enter. She heard voices murmuring down the hall. Dr. Kelly Bean walked in, after a minute.

"Hey, Mary Mollie," she said, holding back a grin. "You really did a number on yourself this time, kid."

"Did I?" groaned Mollie. "It's because I'm just so damn lucky, Dr. Bean."

"Kelly," said Dr. Bean.

"Mollie," said Mollie.

". . . That works better when Carlisle's here too," said Dr. Bean. "Oh, c'mon, laugh. That was funny and you know it."

Mollie smiled and ignored her last comment. "Dr. Bean, what happened? I remember going into the woods . . ."

"Which was stupid."

". . . and falling down a hill," Mollie plowed on, "and breaking my ankle."

"All incredibly dumb. Damn, kid, I thought you were smarter than that."

Mollie allowed her selective hearing to kick in. "But I don't remember _leaving _the woods, and no one knew I was in there. How did you find me?"

Dr. Bean blinked in surprise. "Well, you called 911, remember? And they sent out a search party. It's amazing they found you so quickly, with all the snow. Half the town was out looking. One of those big Quileute boys found you."

Quileute? "What was his name?" Mollie asked.

Dr. Bean looked at her strangely before answering. "Embry Call. Big guy. Nice abs."

There was a wolf whistle from the hallway. Dr. Bean leaned away from Mollie and yelled out the open door, "I told you, she's fine, now leave!"

"Alright, alright. Jesus Christ, woman," said a voice with an audible scowl. The voice was similar in pitch and tone to Embry, but definitely not him.

Dr. Bean shook her head, but she was smiling. "He's barely left your side, actually. Embry, I mean."

"Has he? Where's he now?" she asked, the words tumbling from her lips unbidden

"His friends dragged him off to the cafeteria about ten minutes ago, but he made one of his friends stay in case you woke up. That's Seth Clearwater outside. I think it really tore Embry up, finding you unconscious and hypothermic in the snow. He thought you weren't breathing."

Mollie shivered unconsciously. "I'm glad they're making him eat."

"You need to eat too, Mollie. I'll have the nurses bring you something in an hour or so. In the meantime—well, I have doctor stuff to do with you." Dr. Bean switched into a flight attendant voice. "So, how are you feeling?"

"My ankle?"

"Well, yeah, that," she said, dropping the affectation. "But the ankle's not the main issue. You're really here for mild hypothermia."

"Oh. I don't feel cold anymore," Mollie said.

"Good. Very good," nodded Dr. Bean. "You shouldn't, with the amount of aggressive rewarming we put you through. And your ankle?"

"It hurts," Mollie said, attempting to move the ankle in question and failing, "but I've broken it before and somehow managed to survive. I think I'll be okay."

"Alright. We'll probably keep you one more night and kick you out in the morning. Sound good?"

"Very," Mollie nodded.

"Well, we're done, then," said Dr. Bean. She cocked her head left and listened. "Good timing, too. I think you've got visitors." She rose from the little straight-backed chair and left the room, leaving the door open as she did.

It didn't stay open for long. Embry Call, whose last name Mollie only learned ten minutes ago but whose face she felt she'd always known, closed it behind him as he walked in. He was holding a box of chocolates, which he placed awkwardly on the bed by Mollie's feet. Mollie smiled and motioned for him to take the chair. He sat down, not quite meeting her eyes. "So . . . how are you feeling?"

"Better," she said. Mollie reached out her hand to his and grabbed hold of his warm hand. It was astonishing how well they matched, despite the size difference. Both had russet-colored skin, but it was more than that—something about the way they meshed made Mollie almost believe they were two parts of the same whole. "Thank you," she said with heartfelt gratitude. "You saved my life last night." She didn't let go of his hand when she was done, and he was forced to meet her eyes. When he did the change was instantaneous. Now Mollie knew she'd felt something two days ago. Was this normal? Mollie supposed so, but even if it wasn't she couldn't bring herself to care.

Embry looked a bit pained. "I wish you hadn't been out there at all," he whispered. "You looked so small, and so _cold _. . . your lips were turning blue. I thought you were going to die." Mollie shivered at the thought.

"It wasn't one of my most intelligent moments," she admitted. "I really screwed up. I saw—or maybe I thought I saw—a—well, no. It's stupid and I can't have."

"Can't have seen what?" Embry asked, his face inscrutable.

"A wolf. Large, silver-colored guy. At least, I think it was a guy. I guess it could have been female."

"Not possible," Embry said after a moment. "Wolves don't come that close to towns. In fact, I don't think there are any wolves on the peninsula anymore. They're extinct. South of Canada, at least." He shifted uncomfortably in the hardwood chair and broke eye contact with Mollie.

"_Liar_," coughed a voice outside the room, and there was a scuffling noise from the hallway. Embry growled and shot a pained look toward the door.

"Did you hear something?" he asked Mollie.

"Nope," Mollie said pleasantly, popping the 'p'. She concurred with the disembodied voice. Embry was lying about something. Maybe multiple somethings. She knew she hadn't made the phone call, and she knew she'd seen the wolf, and—oh, god. The voice from last night. That was Embry. She was sure of it.

But she wouldn't say anything yet. He'd saved her, which was good, but he was lying about it, which said not good. Mollie liked this guy, a lot. She didn't really want to know, not yet.

So she changed the subject. She asked him about school, his family, his friends, himself. He threw questions back at her too. The more Mollie knew, the more she liked him. She wondered if he felt the same way about her. He told her about growing up with a single mother. Her stories were the same. How his favorite colors were midnight blue and red. He learned hers was green. How the first time he rode a bike, he crashed headfirst into a tree and broke his left arm, and how there was still a lump in his ring finger where he jammed it playing basketball at age ten. She told him about her bone condition, about how she'd grown up alone and her best friend was her mom. About Jess, Lindy, and Brett from school, and about the college scholarships she was applying for. How she wanted to be a surgeon. They found they had more in common than to which any two people had any right. Mollie thought maybe she was falling just the tiniest bit in love. Or maybe that was an exaggeration. She wasn't exactly sure how to distinguish love from a crush anyway.

After half an hour of non-stop conversation, neither spoke now. It was too awkward for Mollie, and she blurted out the first question she could think of. "Have you ever been in love?"

Embry froze and the two blushed together, then looked away. Mollie cursed herself silently. Both were saved the awkwardness of response when a snigger echoed from down the hallway. Mollie turned to Embry with a question on her lips, but he covered her mouth with his hand and held a finger to his lips. Wide-eyed, she nodded understanding. He withdrew the hand, soundlessly edged off the chair, and darted across the room to the door.

Pausing to wink at Mollie, he waited three long seconds, then yanked the door open and jumped out of the way at lightening speed as a crowd of Quileute boys who had obviously been eavesdropping fell inwards and on top of each other. One boy, a handsome teenager slightly younger than Embry, managed to keep his balance. He walked on top of the piled bodies, making sure to lightly kick one of the boys in the ear as he passed.

Just as he was about to touch down inside the hospital room, Embry's arm snaked out to grab his ankle, tripping him into face-planting on top of the others. Embry chuckled loudly, warm and rich. Mollie's delighted laughter echoed him a second later.

The other boy muttered, "Fuck you, Embry," into the floor, but he was up and smiling and at Mollie's bedside an instant later. "Seth Clearwater," he said cheerfully, shaking her hand. Seth ignored the chair, which Embry quickly reclaimed, in favor of the hospital bed itself, sitting by Mollie's feet. "So, _you're _the famous Mollie," Seth teased. "It's hard to tell, but I think Embry's got a crush." Mollie blushed. Seth picked up the box of chocolates, and said, "Fancy," nodding approval. "But the coconut ones are gross. And you never know which ones they are."

"They're the heart shaped ones with the little dark swirl on top," Mollie said. "Always the same."

"Are they really?" Seth said, surprised. "Embry, she's a keeper." Mollie blushed again. She'd blushed more in the past three days than in the entire year before them.

"Hey, Mollie," Seth said, grabbing her wrist to look at the hospital band. "Why's the bracelet say Mary Guenever?"

"Mollie's just a nickname," she answered. "That's my legal name."

"Why's Guenever spelled like that? Isn't it usually spelled G-u-i-n-n—uh, well, different?"

"Yes, but this is the spelling used in _The Once and Future King_," Mollie said. When she saw the look of blank incomprehension on both Embry's and Seth's faces, she added quietly, "That's a book. By T. H. White. It's very good."

"I'll read it," promised Seth. The other four Quileute boys slowly picked themselves out of the dog pile, throwing dirty looks at Embry and each other as they did. Mollie noticed how similar they all looked, despite the obvious age gaps. The oldest must have been at least twenty-five, the youngest no older than sixteen but with a face that suggested much younger. One Mollie recognized as Brady, who had brought Kim to the emergency room on Tuesday. The others she didn't know.

"That's Jared," Seth named the oldest as the four filtered over. "And Collin, and—well, you know Brady, and ickle Nicky Mora."

The youngest scowled. "_Nick _Mora." He flexed his considerable muscles as if to dispel the comment about his obvious youth. They were all ridiculously muscled, Mollie thought, blushing faintly.

Embry's eyes swept over his five friends and he frowned. "Where's Jake? He said he'd be here."

"He's with Nessie," Seth said, glancing cautiously at the girl in the hospital bed. "She needed to go, uh, hiking." Embry shot a pained look at Seth. "Wanted. Wanted to go hiking," corrected the smaller man.

"Who's Jake?" Mollie ventured. She shrank into the pillows as six sets of eyes turned towards her.

"He's my boss," said Embry. "And my best friend."

"Oh." Mollie expected the Quileutes to trickle out soon, but they instead settled on every available surface in the room, leaning against the walls, sprawling across the floors and unoccupied hospital beds, and draping over chairs. Nick attempted to settle on Mollie's bed next to Seth but Embry tossed him off with a smirk and he crashed on the floor instead.

They stayed for hours, but seemed to understand Mollie's unspoken wish for quiet. Jared napped in a corner; Embry and Seth held a conversation in tones too low for Mollie to hear. Nick crept stealthily back onto the foot of the bed and entertained Mollie for half an hour by tossing the chocolate truffles almost to the ceiling, bouncing them off his nose and forehead and into his mouth (the game ended with the box empty). A nurse came in with Mollie's lunch after a while, but Collin and Brady took one look at it, wrinkled their noses, and ordered pizzas instead.

When the pizzas came, Mollie wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted by how quickly they disappeared. After the pizzas were gone, Dr. Bean came back, surveyed the mess of the hospital room, and ordered, "Out!"

The boys appeared ready to protest, but then a wolf howled in the distance. Mollie watched the Quileute boys' ears prick up as they turned in concert towards the window. They hastily cleaned up the pizza, mumbling apologies as they went, then filed out the door, leaving Embry, a bemused Dr. Bean, and Mollie behind. Embry looked guiltily in the direction of the wolf, but he stayed put in the chair.

"Wolves," Mollie said. Embry's guilty look was now directed towards her.

"Well, wolf," he mumbled.

Mollie snorted inwardly. Why would he bother lying about something like the conservation status of wolves on the Olympic peninsula? Unless—there was a connection between Embry and the silver wolf. The wolf had disappeared just as Embry appeared. The wolf didn't exist in the official story, but Embry and Mollie both knew it existed. Well, Annie, get your gun, because Mollie was going wolf hunting.

In such a way that no wildlife was harmed, of course. She wouldn't actually _shoot_ the damn thing.

Dr. Bean decided that willful ignorance was probably the best course of action. She didn't mention the Quileute boys' odd behavior as she moved around the hospital bed, checking various monitors. She was twenty-six years old, in her second year of residency, and she'd seen far weirder things many times before. "Embry, you need to head out soon, too."

"I will, I will," he mumbled. "Mollie, you're coming to the bonfire, right?"

"Well, I . . ."

"Aw, come on," he begged. "Kim'll be pissed if you don't show. And I really want you to go too."

"I would," she hedged, "But I'm not sure if I'm allowed, after last night."

"I'll talk to your mom myself if that's what it takes, kiddo," cut in Dr. Bean. "But I don't think she'll be mad enough to stop you from going. And if it's the foot you're worried about, don't. You'll be fine to go so long as you take crutches. Trust me, I'm a doctor."

Mollie and Embry rolled their eyes in unison. "She's a doctor, Mollie," said Embry. "I bet she's even got a t-shirt to prove it."

"Don't I?" grinned Dr. Bean, opening up her lab coat to reveal a Dr. Who t-shirt with the line printed on it.

"I'll go," decided Mollie. "Although, I'm not sure exactly where it is."

"First beach," said Embry, grinning like he'd won the lottery. "You want me to pick you up?"

"No need," said Mollie. "I have a car."

"I've got two," said Embry, grinning wider. "What time?"

"Whenever."

"Barbecue starts at seven. I'll pick you up at a quarter to, if that's alright." He grinned again. Mollie liked his smile.

"Very nice, lovely, adorable, now _out_," said Dr. Bean, shaking her head. She shooed Embry out the door, ending with an ineffectual push.

"Six-thirty, don't forget!" he called, just as she shut the door in his face. Dr. Bean fanned herself dramatically as she walked back to Mollie's bedside.

"Good choice," she said to Mollie. "He's got nice abs even _with _his shirt on."

"Thanks, doc!" Embry called, muffled by the door.

Dr. Bean sighed. She opened the door and yelled, "Out, and _stay _out!" before re-slamming it with interest.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The young doctor sighed again. "Hot, but annoying. Oh, hey, I think your mom's coming up."

Helen Ember entered the room just as Kelly Bean left, and she was mad. "I have no idea what on _earth_ you were thinking, young lady, but that _adventure _of yours last night was the stupidest thing I have ever seen, bar none," she seethed, plopping into the bedside chair. "What were you doing! Don't answer that. I don't want to know. Didn't you stop to _think_? Didn't you stop to put on shoes? I promise you, when you get home, that window screen will be sealed on permanently. What's wrong with the front door, anyway? Too tame?" Mollie smiled patiently through her mother's tirade. "You could have died. Died! Thank god for Embry Call!" she finished, throwing her hands up in despair.

"There won't be a repeat," Mollie said softly. "I think I've learned a bit since then."

"_Right_," Helen snorted. "Well, it's your head. See if I care." The worry and tension in her face, which was just now beginning to relax, told a different story, though. "Anyway, I brought these," Helen said, tossing a thick file on Mollie's lap. "I thought maybe we'd work through those scholarship applications seeing as you're stuck here and I took the day off work anyway."

"Mom, you didn't have to call in sick for this," Mollie said guiltily. She knew money was tight, stretching Helen's single salary as a middle school counselor over two people.

"I absolutely had to," Helen said tightly. "I'd be a crappy excuse for a mother if I didn't."

Mollie smiled through her watering eyes.

Helen shifted in the uncomfortable straight-backed chair, then moved to the foot of the bed. "Let's start on the UW application."

* * *

Leah hated patrolling in groups, and Nick Mora was why.

Embry sighed as the slender she-wolf snarled mentally at their third companion. It was going to be a long run to—well, to wherever the leeches were going. The three werewolves had picked up the scent, and a bloodless body, around Aberdeen and followed it back north and into the Olympic National forest where they found two more bodies and the disgustingly sweet smell of leech covering a large section of newly destroyed trees. They'd temporarily lost the trail at Lake Cushman and picked it back up at Lilliwaup, followed it around Annas bay to Union and then Bremerton, and lost it again. Now Embry was pacing at the edge of the sound while Leah and Nick sat and stewed behind him.

Embry had a hunch that the bloodsuckers had crossed over to Seattle, but it was impossible to track the scent through water and he had a sinking feeling that he'd lost them for good. He didn't want to report back to Jake with failure, though, and—would Nick _shut the fuck up _for _one goddamn minute_?

Immediately he mentally smacked himself for yelling at the pup, who was slinking resentfully away. It wasn't Nick's fault he was showing his packmates his memories of his jackass dad. God, Embry wanted to tear the man apart for hurting his brother so badly. _Leah, go after him_, Embry commanded.

She snarled at him too, but she went. Unfortunately, Leah's interpretation of 'going after him' didn't contain the gentle listening and sensitivity crap that Embry had intended it to—weren't girls supposed to be good at that?—and she caught him and dragged him back to Embry, kicking and growling, and dumped him at the larger wolf's feet. Then she threw up a mental wall and stalked off.

Nick whined and scooted away from Embry, his eyes betraying his fear, but Embry crouched down on the ground next to him and said nothing, not even when Nick bit him. The younger boy cringed backwards almost immediately, but Embry didn't retaliate.

When Nick attempted to throw up a mental wall just as Leah had done, Embry knocked down the clumsy construction with a gentle tap. So the younger wolf instead bombarded Embry with a crushing stream of memories of his home life, his father throwing a beer bottle at Nick, who ducked, his father vomiting on the kitchen floor and Nick having to pick the man up and wash his face and throw him on the bed, his father striking him across the face with the back of his hand, and again, and again. Embry howled. _Stop. Stop. STOP! _

He tackled Nick, biting his ear and using his greater weight to pin the speckled blond wolf to the ground. Leah returned to help Embry, sitting on Nick's rotated hip and smacking his tail back and forth. Nick raged for minutes, thrashing ineffectively and biting at the air. Though Embry and Leah winced every time his teeth gnashed together they sat quietly until he was done. When he was, Leah padded over to the younger wolf's face. He whimpered and turned away from her as much as he could. She leaned over him and licked his face from ear to nose, a big slobbering wet kiss.

_Yuck, Leah_, he said disgruntled.

_Can it, kid,_ Embry told him. _It means she cares. Whether you want it or not, the pack cares for its own. Every blow you take hurts the entire pack. _Nick glared at him resentfully, but he shut up anyway.

Embry let his brother up with a playful nip to his ear. Then he looked back across the sound and made a decision. _We'll hunt for the scent on the other side._

They swam the sound. They caught the scent almost immediately on the opposite shore—Embry would be trusting his hunches a lot more from now on—and followed it into a dingy neighborhood on the banks of the Duwamish waterway. _Tread carefully. _They moved slowly and low to the ground into a back alley where the scent was particularly strong.

Jake had ordered them to track only; they were not supposed to attack. But Leah and Nick were both itching for a fight, and Embry doubted whether he could contain them if they stumbled upon a vampire. _Don't attack. Don't attack. Don't . . ._

But there wasn't any vampire in the alley. The three wolves spread out, sniffing. One vampire, two vampires—but not the two they'd been tracking.

Embry froze in shock and horror as he realized they were dealing with at least two more vampires than they'd thought. Jake would need to know. _Leah, we have to get out of here. _Leah barked excitedly, though, and mentally pulled him to her. _Ashes._ Someone had burned a vampire here, and recently.

Nick joined them and the three sniffed the pile cautiously. It wasn't one of the two they'd been tracking, but the male's scent surrounded it, and over here was the female's, and a fourth unknown vampire's over there. Shit. Six vampires minus one still left five. How had Jake missed this? How had the _Cullens _missed this, given Alice's sight?

Embry's eyes narrowed. Jake really needed to know. _We're going back_, Embry commanded. He was the ranking wolf on the expedition. Nevertheless, the other two protested.

_We can take them._

_Two for me and one for Leah and two for you, too, _said Nick generously.

_No. _Embry snarled mentally and put all the weight of his command into the order. _We're going home NO__W._

So they went. Leah and Nick refused to speak to Embry the entire long run back to Forks.

They found Jake at the Cullen house with Nessie. He looked up in surprise as they ran into the large living room, wet, ragged, and not entirely reacclimated to their human forms. "Yo," he said, making funny faces at them for Renesmee. "Why are _you_ here?"

"There are leeches in Seattle," Embry said without preamble, breathing hard. The faint clattering in the kitchen stopped silent.

"How many?" asked Jake dangerously.

"Five including the two we tracked. There was another, but they burned him. Recently. Not more than a day, maybe less. We found his ashes in an alley." Embry felt a small, cool hand on his arm. He looked down and smiled at Nessie just as questions and pictures began flooding through the link. Why did Jake look so angry? He hadn't looked angry when they hunted that afternoon, she thought over a picture of Nessie and Jake kneeling over a dead deer. Was it the vampires? Nessie knew they were bad vampires, who drank blood, not like her golden-eyed family. She wished she had golden eyes too, but then she would be a vampire and not best friends with Jacob, and she liked chocolate brown eyes almost as well. Nessie knew the wolves were tracking two vampires whom her parents didn't like. Had they killed someone? More than one someone?

"Three someones," Embry whispered painfully and the little fingers tightened on his arm with a wash of pain and sympathy.

Jake was raging at the Cullens, who were now gathered around the wolves with the exception of Emmet at the TV. "We'll be discussing this later," he finished. "Officially. Emb, Nick, Leah, you're free to go. Get some sleep, you look like hell."

"Thanks, jackass," muttered Leah before she slipped off, Nick at her heels. Embry left gratefully, too, but he had a stop to make before returning to La Push. Two stops, actually. He made a pass by the hospital where Mollie was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Well, good. His imprint should be sleeping at this hour, even if it was, well, only ten thirty. So he was a little overbearingly parental, so what?

Then he passed by her house to check on her mom, whom he knew Mollie cared deeply about. Helen Ember was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and a book, lost to the world. The worry lines on her face were as relaxed as they had ever been, although the woman, who shared few of Mollie's features but all of her quiet beauty, still looked older than her forty years.

The imprint certainly sped things up, but Embry thought he could have easily fallen in love with Mollie on his own. He did think he loved her already. The one spot of discomfort in his own brain had been lodged firmly in there since long before he met Mollie, though, and it refused to be shaken out. How on earth would she react to the werewolves? More pressing still, the _imprint_?


	5. Bonfire

Chapter Four: Bonfire

It was early Friday morning when Mollie woke up after her second night in the hospital. She wasn't a particularly heavy sleeper and the sounds of cars pulling into the parking lot just outside were enough to jolt her awake. Moving cautiously, Mollie eased out of the bed, grabbing the bedside table for support. Her crutches were against the opposite wall by the door, maybe five steps away, but Mollie was confident she could make it. She did, and once the crutches were in place she maneuvered herself over to the window. It slid open easily.

Outside the air was chilly and the sky just beginning to lighten. It was snowing again, not unusual for late November in Forks, and a light dusting covered the parking lot below. Dr. Cullen's sleek black Mercedes pulled into a corner space just visible from the edge of the window. Mollie watched Carlisle climb out of his car, pause to wipe futilely at the ice already building on the windshield, and converse with the matronly nurse parked next to him. The small lot gradually filled with cars as the sun rose.

Kelly Bean checked on Mollie at 8 AM and immediately cleared her for discharge. "I hate to kick you out so soon, but we need to free up a bed for someone who actually needs it," said Dr. Bean as she walked Mollie down a long hallway lined with doors leading out into deserted double rooms. "And anyway, your mom wants you back. Can't think why, but she does."

Helen Ember was waiting impatiently at the main desk. She had to be at work soon; she was running late as it was. Helen signed through a stack of papers without reading any of it, then she drove Mollie home.

Immediately she was back in her small car and off to work, although not before issuing orders to her daughter. "Don't go to school, don't go outside, and stay by the phone. I'm calling every hour, on the hour, and if you don't pick up, I'm coming right home." Mollie listened patiently and nodded in all the appropriate places.

She spent the morning bored, moving from activity to activity and still not knowing what to do with herself. She'd never really cared for practicing piano anyway, but even reading was a chore. Mollie hated having so much free time. There was no fun in snatching a few minutes with a book when you had an open invitation to read whatever you liked for hours and hours on end.

10:00 rolled around and she took a break from leafing through her chem textbook to call Jess. No one picked up the phone at Jess's house, as she'd expected, and she left a message for her friend letting her know she couldn't go shopping on Saturday. She felt mildly guilty for bailing on the trip, but she hadn't really wanted to go in the first place.

Helen returned home briefly for lunch. Mollie assured her that yes, she was resting, and yes, her ankle felt fine. No, she hadn't gone back into the woods. Yes, she still felt capable of going to the bonfire.

"Well, take your phone with you, at least," Helen said doubtfully before returning to work. When she was gone, Mollie collapsed haphazardly on the living room couch and flipped through the TV channels, never stopping on any one for longer than ten minutes. Finally Mollie gave up and dragged herself up the stairs to get ready for the bonfire.

What did you wear to a bonfire on the beach? Mollie wasn't sure. She eventually decided on a parka, jeans, and heavy insulated boots, reasoning that even if she missed the dress code she at least wouldn't freeze. Mollie rushed out of her room, swinging back at the door to grab her camera, which she attached to her pocket with a thin cord.

She wasn't sure why she was rushing. Embry wouldn't come around until a quarter to seven; It was barely twenty past six now. Mollie went into her bathroom and messed with her hair. She put it up, then took it down, then brought it back up, and finally tied it into her usual French braid. Twisting right, then left, Mollie sighed at her reflection. Her face was defined by her wide-set cheekbones, made more prominent by her braid. She looked terribly small in the large winter coat. The cast on her ankle meant she could only wear one boot, which looked rather silly.

But there was some quality in her reflection which Mollie liked, something inherently Mollie-ish about her burnished copper face and the wispy black strands framing it.

Mollie jumped as she heard a car rolling up the street. She hobbled out of the bathroom and down the stairs as quickly as her crutches could take her. The first ring of the doorbell chimed out as Mollie hit the bottom stair. She was nearly at the door when it opened of its own accord.

"You really should remember to lock this thing," rumbled Embry, staring bemusedly at the doorknob. He looked up and grinned as Mollie neared him. "You ready?"

"Uh-huh." Mollie followed him out the door. He'd parked in the driveway rather than the street, which Mollie was thankful for as it meant fewer steps. Embry didn't allow Mollie to take those few steps, however. As soon as she was past the door frame he swung her up easily into his arms and carried her to his truck, holding her with a single arm as he opened the door, and then deposited her in the shotgun seat. "Didn't want you to hurt your ankle worse," he said as explanation, blushing red around his ears. If the heat in her cheeks was any indication, Mollie was blushing just as furiously.

Embry ducked away and jogged to the driver's side. He swung himself into the seat next to Mollie. "So what do you think?" he asked, grinning. "About the car, I mean."

"It's beautiful," said Mollie. "Old and solid."

"1967," Embry said proudly. "Jake and I bought it from a man in Hoquiam who bought it new. We fixed it up, replaced the engine with something a bit more powerful . . ." Embry drove slowly out of the driveway and down the street before kicking the truck a gear higher and taking off.

"I don't know much about cars," admitted Mollie. "But I can tell you and Jake did a fantastic job with this one." Embry looked pleased.

"How's your foot?" he asked after a minute. They were speeding down La Push road at a speed Mollie suspected was highly illegal, but very enjoyable.

"It's . . . ok. It doesn't hurt much," Mollie said honestly. "But I really hate not having two working feet."

"Any reason in particular?"

"It makes me feel heavy and grounded," Mollie answered slowly. She shrugged and bit her bottom lip. "I guess that's a little nonsensical, but sometimes I feel like I'm sinking into the ground and I'll never be able to get back up. I hate losing limbs," she finished. "I don't like being that helpless, utterly unable to run. But then, it's only temporary, so I get through it."

The drive was shorter than Mollie expected and they soon pulled up in the parking lot of first beach. The lot had room for only a dozen cars, with mossy logs as curb stops. The snow hadn't fallen as heavily in La Push as it had in Forks. Only a thin layer covered the outlying areas of the lot. The beach was rocky and muddy, but free of any snow cover. First Beach was framed by tall sea cliffs on both sides, the road and lot cutting a narrow path between them. The waves were icy gray, a shade or three darker than the clouded sky. It was nearly deserted, but for a slowly coalescing group on the far south side.

"Do you like it?" Embry asked wistfully as he helped her out of the car. "I grew up on this beach with Jake and Quil—Quil's another friend. It's pretty . . . pretty significant to La Push."

They watched the crashing waves together silently for a minute, before Embry gently steered Mollie toward the beach and they walked together to the group on the south side.

"Kim comes here all the time," said Embry. "She sits on the cliffs and just stares at the ocean for hours. Sometimes she paints. It's a bit weird, because Kim's never quiet except when she's here." He grasped Mollie's waist in his oversized hands and lifted her over a row of squashed, muddy plants, setting her down gently on the other side. "I'll show you her paintings sometime. They're pretty good."

The beach wasn't all that big, but at Mollie's pace they were a long time crossing it. Embry didn't seem to mind. He didn't mention if he could hear her heartbeat racing every time he picked her up to lift her over a rocky or uneven spot, either.

The small group on the beach was now a large group, more people adding to it every minute. They set up folding tables, piled them with food, and cleaned up a preexisting bonfire pit, lining it with rocks. Mollie realized as she neared them that she recognized several people from the group of Embry's friends who had visited her in the hospital the day before. As Mollie watched, two baby-faced teenage boys broke away from the main party. They ran toward the waves, stripping off their shirts as they went, and dived into the water, shouting gleefully all the way.

"That's got to be pretty cold."

"Freezing," said Embry.

"I suppose you do it too?" Mollie asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Who, me?" Embry asked innocently. "I could catch a cold . . . yeah, I do it too. It's more fun to dive from the cliffs, though."

"That sounds exhilarating. And dangerous."

"Oh, it is, both. It's a major rush. I'll take you sometime if you want."

"Do I look like the sort of girl who dives off cliffs? I'll watch you jump, though."

Embry laughed. "You do look like that sort of girl, but I get your point. Probably best if you don't. You're kind of breakable."

"You have no idea," muttered Mollie.

"Tell me."

"I have a genetic bone condition no one's been able to treat successfully. It's incredibly rare; the only other case I know of is a little girl in Ohio. My bones are just fragile. I've broken this same ankle three times," Mollie said, pointing at her bulky cast. "When I was younger, my mom traveled with me seeing doctors who thought they could help. We found a few medications that alleviated some of the symptoms. I took part in a study at Stanford once. They put me on a drug called betaine, which helps more than anything else I've ever been on, but I still break bones all the time.

"Well, my mom and I lived in a rural area by Wentworth lake. If I broke a bone my mom had to drive me to Forks or Port Angeles to find a hospital. That scared my mom, being that far away from a doctor. So two years ago we moved to Forks to be near the hospital. Dr. Cullen's been incredibly helpful."

"Well, he's the best," said Embry.

"I thought you and your friends didn't like him?"

"You can tell?"

"It's pretty obvious."

"Oh. There was a . . . misunderstanding a few years ago, and a lot of people on the rez still don't like the Cullens. But he is the best. He saved Jake's life a few years ago after a bad accident."

"That sounds very in character for him," Mollie said confidently. "Saving lives is kind of Dr. Cullen's thing."

Embry laughed briefly. "Is it?"

"Definitely."

He asked seriously, now, "Did he save yours?"

"Not exactly. My bone problem's not that severe. But he's really helped. I break bones all the time. I'd be in a much worse place if he wasn't here to set them."

"You don't sound bitter at all about the bone thing."

"Oh, I am," Mollie admitted. "I'm well aware life screwed me over in that respect. I broke my collarbone when I was fourteen, playing volleyball. I had to quit sports after that one."

Mollie and Embry slowed as they reached the group, which now numbered well over two dozen. "C'mon," said Embry, grabbing Mollie's hand. "I'll introduce you to Sue."

"Who's Sue?"

"Sue Clearwater, Seth's mom. She's sort of our team mom."

"Oh. Are you all on a sports team, you and your friends?"

"Not exactly," Embry said, laughing quietly. "But something similar." He led her over to one of the folding tables stacked with hundreds of hot dogs and buns. A middle-aged woman, presumably Sue, with the same russet skin and Quileute features as everyone there was sorting the packages into piles.

"How many people are coming?" Mollie whispered to Embry, wide-eyed at the amount of food. Large crowds weren't really Mollie's thing.

Sue heard her and looked up, smiling warmly. "Everyone who's coming is already here, dear. Some of these people just eat like you wouldn't believe." She glared with mock-severity at Embry, who grinned bashfully at Mollie.

The hot dogs and buns on the table were neatly sorted into twenty or so piles, the last and largest pushed off to the side. Mollie watched, fascinated, as Sue pulled a sticky note pad from her pocket and slapped a sticky on each of the first nineteen piles. Only one word, a name, was written on each sticky—_Seth_, _Sam_, _Jake_, _Leah_, _Nick_, and of course, _Embry_.

"My pile's smaller than Seth's," said a disgruntled female voice. "But then, we all know who you like best, mom." Mollie looked left and saw a beautiful Quileute woman walking confidently towards the table. She was unusually tall and lean, all taut rounded muscles and powerful chiseled lines.

"Oh, shut up, Leah," said Embry, rolling his eyes at the woman. "And find a new line. You use that one every bonfire whether your pile's smaller or not."

"It is this time," she said, cracking a faint smile. "Your pile's smaller than Seth's too. You should join my protest."

Embry laughed too loudly and swung an arm around Mollie's shoulder protectively. "What do you want, Leah?"

She paused. "Just to meet your friend, of course. You brought her, right?"

"She's right in front of you," Embry said, his arm tightening.

"Ah."

"Mollie, this is Leah, a friend," Embry said, addressing the girl shrinking into his side.

"Hi," Mollie squeaked.

"I'm glad I got to meet you," said Leah, her faint smile growing. "It's not every day we get a new . . . friend."

"Yeah, well, we've got other people to meet, right, Mollie? So we'll just . . ." Embry trailed off as he dragged Mollie away from the other woman. When they were a safe distance away he released his grip on her shoulder.

"Are you and Leah really friends?" Mollie asked, rubbing the place where his fingers had dug into her shoulder blade.

"Yeah," Embry answered. "But our relationship changed a lot recently, and I guess Leah's figuring out where she stands with me now."

"Where does she stand?" Mollie asked.

"Behind you, always," Embry said seriously. That scared Mollie a bit, the intensity in his eyes. Four days, that was all—four days, and maybe she was in too deep already. A part of her liked it though, and that scared her even more.

"Maybe you could introduce me to the others," she said abruptly.

"Of course," he said, startled. "We can start with Sam and Emily . . . or we can start with Kim, and it'll probably be the latter because she's beelining to us now and I doubt she'll let you go."

Kim's version of beelining was hampered by her crutches, but she was bearing down on them remarkably fast nonetheless, Jared and an unfamiliar Quileute man following at her heels. "You made it!" she exclaimed.

"And we match," said Mollie, with a nod at the two identical sets of crutches.

"Kim push you into doing that?" asked the unfamiliar man teasingly. "Peer pressure is a dangerous thing, you know. Hey, if Kim jumped off a bridge . . ."

"Jared would follow her in and like it," finished another unfamiliar face who had just joined the group.

"I wouldn't let her jump in the first place," said Jared sulkily. The entire group burst into laughter at his suspicious look at Kim. There was an easy camaraderie between them which had somehow widened and swallowed Mollie whole, inviting her into their hearts and lives.

"That's Jake," said Embry, pointing to the first man, "and that's Quil. We all work together at the shop." It was obvious that Embry desperately hoped she would like his friends, and Mollie found them all too easy to like. Jake and Quil were both tall and muscular like Embry, with similar features. So similar, in fact, that they might have been brothers. Mollie mentioned this.

"We think of ourselves as brothers," said Jake. His voice was deep, warm, and powerful, obviously accustomed to command. He was the sort of man who attracted followers like a light in the darkness attracts moths. Mollie swiped a quick glance at Embry and wondered if he was one of those moths.

More people joined the small group and Mollie was duly introduced. They all seemed to know her name already, and were eager to see the face attached to it. Mollie had never felt so instantly accepted as she did with these people. It wasn't that she'd felt like an outsider in other places, but this was so natural she couldn't help believing she belonged.

There were just over two dozen people at the bonfire; Mollie talked to all of them. First were Sam Uley and his wife, the very pregnant Emily Uley, who had two small children and whom everyone treated with great respect. After them was darkly handsome Paul Lahote, who's eyes sized Mollie up in a way that made her very uncomfortable. He didn't have a girlfriend with him, and Embry told Mollie after he left that he spent most of his time lazing around Sam and Emily's place, eating all their food. Next came a pair of older men, paraplegic Billy Black, Jake's father, and Old Quil, whose face split into a great, wobbling smile when he shook her hand. A rush of young teenage boys followed. They were eager and energetic, and didn't go away until Embry shoved them off.

"They're very young for their age," Mollie said. She found them endearing rather than annoying as Embry did.

"How old do you think they are?" Embry asked guardedly.

"Maybe sixteen, or a bit older."

"They're all twelve."

"Except for Nick!" added Kim.

"Right," groaned Embry. "Like ickle Nicky would let me forget he's an entire year older." How Nick overheard from a hundred feet away, Mollie didn't know, but he scowled and flipped Embry the bird anyway.

The food laid out on the tables by Sue was soon demolished, and Mollie quickly understood the logic of the labeled piles. The last, unlabeled pile was for the eight or nine people without a labeled stack, and it was the last one gone. Mollie caught Embry staring mournfully after he'd finished his tenth hot dog, but no one caught Jake stealing stealthily from it when Sue's back was turned.

Two hours later, the sky was pitch black and the air cold, but the clouds above were slowly dispersing and a cascade of brilliant stars appeared. The flickering light of the bonfire made it a bit harder to see them, but there were still thousands visible. Mollie had never lived in a city large enough that the artificial lights interfered with the stars; she wasn't sure she could. At the very least she would miss them horribly.

Embry's warm hand snaked into hers, holding tightly. She leaned into him and his other arm wrapped around her waist. "It's about time we go sit by the bonfire," he said softly. "They'll begin telling the legends in a few minutes."

"Legends?" Mollie wondered.

"The histories of our people."

"I'm not Quileute."

"If you say so," he chuckled. "But you might still enjoy the legends. They're fascinating, especially if you've never heard them before. Right, Kim?"

"Just because _I _didn't grow up with my parents telling me Dask'iya would eat me if I didn't take out the garbage . . ." Kim grumbled. "My parents are too _modern_ for that."

"I had nightmares about Dask'iya," reflected one of the younger boys. "But then I saw _The Return of the King _in 2003 and Dask'iya turned into Shelob."

"Dask'iya is an ogress, who kidnaps and eats little Quileute children," Embry said in response to Mollie's unspoken question. "She's kind of the boogeyman." He guided Mollie over to a log near the fire, which was ten feet high and bright green. The others quickly found places as well. Jake wheeled Billy and his chair over to a gap in the logs, where Old Quil and Sue Clearwater also sat in folding chairs. The eerily colored firelight cast odd, flickering shadows on their faces.

In the circle, the silence was absolute but not oppressive. Then Billy began to speak.

"In the beginning, there was only Q'wati.

"It was Q'wati the creator who made the earth and filled it with people. Q'wati was father to the Hoh and Makah and many others.

"But always special to his heart were the Quileute. These he made last, and he made them from the wolf, _Kwol__í_, and his mate. Thus the Quileutes and the wolves are long-sundered brothers and it is forbidden for the Quileutes to kill them. Q'wati told the Quileute to be brave and strong.

"Then Q'wati left his people and moved on to other corners of his world. The Quileute were plagued by famine. Q'wati returned to teach them how to cultivate the earth and fish in the streams. The Quileute were no longer hungry. These means of gathering food Q'wati taught also to the Makah and Hoh, and they grew in number and strength until they far surpassed the Quileute.

"The Makah and Hoh had ever been the enemies of the Quileute, and the Quileute feared them. They begged Q'wati for aid. He would not destroy the Makah and Hoh, as they asked, for Q'wati loved all his children. But he granted the Quileute something else. Q'wati made the Quileute spirit warriors, who could abandon their bodies and travel in the spirit world, and Kaheleha was the first spirit chief. So the Quileutes defended their land and people for many generations.

"Kaheleha was the first spirit chief, but Taha Aki was the last. After the traitor Utlapa stole the body of the great chief, after Taha Aki and the wolf became one, no Quileute ever again entered the spirit world. Now they were shapeshifters. Each son of Taha Aki had a spirit wolf too, and their sons, and their son's sons as well. They used their spirit wolves to protect their people. Taha Aki himself lived for the time of three men and married three times. All three wives he loved dearly, but the third was different. In her he found his spirit mate and they grew old together and had many sons.

"That was before the Cold Ones came.

"They were two in number, a man and a woman, both as pale as snow and beautiful. They spoke an incomprehensible language; they brought with them a burning, sickly stench; they were blood-drinkers and enemies.

"The spirit wolves of the Quileutes found the Cold Man first, surrounded by the corpses of women of the Makah tribe. They killed him, but sustained heavy losses. Yaha Uta, the oldest son of the third wife, was the only one to return; he carried with him the mangled corpse of the Cold Man. The pieces, which were as hard as granite, were burned."

The circle was silent save for the occasional crackle of the fire when Billy paused. He didn't speak again for a minute, until a little voice demanded, "More stories, Mr. Billy!" The tension was broken as everyone laughed. The speaker was a little girl sitting on Quil's lap. She couldn't have been more than six or seven and was entirely adorable if also incurably bossy.

"That's Claire," Embry murmured into Mollie's ear. "Emily's niece."

"Is she related to Quil, too?" Mollie asked.

"No—they're just, uh, special friends."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that Quil is Claire's bitch," stage-whispered Jared from the next log over. Quil growled angrily and Jared hastily corrected himself, "I mean, it means that Quil is Claire's tea-party buddy."

"They're both true," said Embry. "He's also her punching bag, coat rack, and pillow. The kid owns him."

The circle was tittering at the side conversation and Mollie flushed red. "I'll continue, then," said Billy, amused. "The next story is that of the third wife's sacrifice. We do not know the third wife's name; that was lost through the ages, or perhaps it was never recorded. Yet her bravery sets her among the ranks of the great.

"Several moons after the remains of the Cold Man were burned, a golden-haired woman appeared in the village. She was beautiful, pale, and strangely dressed. The Quileutes worshipped her as a goddess. She killed them in return.

"She too was a Cold One, the mate of the Cold Man, seeking revenge for his death. Whether she found it in her slaughter of the villagers I do not know. But there was only Yaha Uta to defend the Quileute; his half-brother wolves were all dead by the Cold Man's hand, his father too old, and the other children of the third wife too young. Yaha Uta died defending his people.

"Then there was only Taha Aki. He had not phased in many years, and when he did his spirit wolf was old and weak. He knew the Cold Woman would kill him. His wife, the third wife, knew this too. She had watched her eldest son die at the Cold Woman's hands, and now she would see her husband die too.

"Taha Aki and the Cold Woman danced. She struck him; he bit her. But he was losing; that was plain to see. It was then that the third wife made her sacrifice. The Cold Woman thirsted after blood. The third wife gave her blood.

"She grabbed Taha Aki's knife from the ground where it had fallen as he phased and plunged it into her heart. The scent of her blood distracted the Cold Woman enough that Taha Aki, aided by his young sons, who, in rage at their mother's death, had phased, could tear off her head and burn the body.

"When this was done Taha Aki laid next to the corpse of his wife, and there he stayed for a long time. Then he disappeared into the woods and was never seen again."

Billy stopped abruptly. Then he smiled and laid his arms down on his lap. "I think that's enough mythology for today, don't you agree?"

A grumbling protest met his words. "But you never stop there!" said Nick. "You always end with the story about the tr—"

Lightening fast, a hand whipped out and smacked him. Mollie wasn't sure whose it was. "What was that for?" cried Nick.

"Dipshit," muttered Leah. The circle broke up with scattered chattering. Most of the group headed back to the tables to clean up, but Embry steered Mollie to the parking lot. They went slowly because of the darkness and Mollie's crutches.

"We should probably go help clean up . . ." she trailed off as the voices behind them receded.

"Nah," said Embry. "They'll take care of it. Besides, crutches, remember?"

Mollie smiled. "I guess I really wouldn't be much use, anyway."

"Probably not." Suddenly, Embry's hands were on her waist and he lifted her over the log parking blocks, setting her down on the asphalt. Mollie's breath caught in her throat, letting out with a _whoosh_ when he let go of her.

"Give me some warning before you do that, ok?" she said.

"Sorry," Embry said unrepentantly. "But you might expect it by now."

"Evidently not."

"But you didn't _mind _it, did you?" he asked with a faint, smug smile. He moved a step closer and then one hand was back on her waist.

"No," Mollie whispered. The hand slid to her hip. Another step closer, and they were so close that her nose almost touched the hollow in his throat. He was ridiculously tall, she thought. Embry's other hand found its way to her face. It brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead, then settled on her cheek. Then he kissed her.

He pulled her closer and she molded herself to his body. His hand twisted in her hair, tangling through her braid. Their lips crashed together. Filled with a reckless abandon, Mollie let her crutches drop to the asphalt as she fell deeper into Embry's arms. Her hands moved over his shoulders and behind his neck, feeling the smooth hardness of his muscular frame. Groaning in response, Embry crushed her against his body then lifted her entirely into his arms. His tongue broke through, pressing against Mollie's lips. She fought back for a moment, just for the fun of it, before letting him in.

They were interrupted abruptly when Nick walked into the lot behind them. "Dude," he said, wolf whistling. "Get a fucking room."

Embry growled. "Fuck off, Nick."

"No need to be touchy . . . just remember the injunction."

Embry buried his face in Mollie's hair and mumbled another expletive.

"And you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?"

Embry groaned. "Nick, is your ultimate goal to ruin my life? You're making a brilliant start, if it is."

Nick snapped his fingers. "Damn, you caught me out."

"Get lost, kid."

"Will do. Good luck . . . oh wait, you can't have any. Forgot, injunction." Nick laughed his way out of the parking lot. Embry groaned again.

"I'm so sorry, Mollie."

"About him? Don't worry, I didn't understand half of what he said and I won't pretend I did."

"I'll explain everything later. It's just—you might not understand everything at this point. I want to tell you, I really do, but for various reasons I can't," Embry said, frustrated.

"Look, I know there's something strange about you and your friends, Embry."

"You do?"

"It's pretty damn obvious," said Mollie.

"I doubt that—wait. Did you just _swear_?" Embry asked. "I didn't think you did that."

"Only sometimes," said Mollie quietly.

"Don't be shy," Embry said with a grin. "It's pretty damn hot."

Mollie chose to ignore that. "Embry, when Nick said I was your girlfriend, I—"

"Oh, man, I'm sorry about that, too. Nick's an annoying little bugger. But I won't lie, Mollie, that _is _my ultimate goal. I like you a lot. I do want us to be together. But not yet, because I know you're not ready for that. I'm not going to push you into anything."

"Thank you," she said. They drove back to Mollie's place in comfortable silence.


	6. First Love

Chapter Five: First Love

Late Sunday morning saw Mollie sitting on the rickety, old swinging bench just off the front walk of the Ember house. The hated plastic crutches leaned lazily against the old wood siding. Swinging her unbroken foot carelessly and letting the injured one drag through the muddy snow, she puffed her cheeks out as wide as they would go, then exhaled in a rush. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold; the sun reflected sharply off the snow, blinding her eyes.

Embry was supposed to pick her up at eleven; it was just past a quarter to. Mollie felt a bit silly waiting outside for him, but she was very excited, and maybe a bit anxious. This was her first date. He'd called her the day before to ask her out, and she'd said yes, of course.

Then the worrying had set in. Mollie wasn't very good with social situations; being with other people drained her energy. She never knew what to say or do in an extended interaction. What if he kissed her again? What if he _didn't_? Then Mollie told herself to shut up, because she was definitely overthinking it.

It was only a casual date to an ice cream shop. Low-key and easy. Mollie hadn't even dressed up; she was wearing a soft, royal blue sweater and dark jeans, with her usual French braid.

Mollie hummed lightly under her breath as she waited. Although she wasn't a particularly good singer, she was on pitch at least most of the time. Her mumbled song cut off abruptly as a familiar truck rumbled into view.

Grinning and waving, Embry parked the car underneath the bare Oregon ash near the driveway. Mollie lifted herself off the bench.

He rushed out of the car and was at her side in an instant, steadying her as she found her crutches and walked down to the car.

They left the windows down as they drove to the ice cream parlor. Both of them loved feeling the cold wind rushing in on their faces.

The ice cream parlor was the only one in Forks. It was a 'Ye Olde Candy Shoppe' type place which sold coffee, hot chocolate, and sweets as well as ice cream. They both ordered giant, fudge-covered sundaes, then bickered about who got to pay. Mollie almost conceded when Embry pointed out that, chauvinism aside, he had asked her, not the other way around. She declared defeat when he picked her up by the waist, carried her, squirming, over to the soda fountain, left her there and then returned to the bemused cashier with his wallet and a smug smile.

"Bastard," Mollie said, laughing and leaning against the plastic counter.

"You and me both," Embry agreed with a grin. "We're practically poster children."

They found a corner booth with window panels on both sides and sat down to eat. The window was partly shaded by a set of candy cane striped blinds, but outside they could see snow lightly falling and the occasional passing car. A bell chimed every time the door opened, which wasn't frequently. There were maybe three couples and a few small families in the shop. It was pleasantly quiet.

They ate their ice cream without talking. Mollie peeked shyly at Embry every now and again, sometimes meeting his eyes and holding the stare, sometimes ducking away instantly. He was always looking at her with the strangest look in his eyes. It was partly bemused, partly adoring, and partly possessive.

"Oh, hey," Embry said suddenly. "I had orders to tell you first thing but I forgot. Kim wants you to hang out with her and Emily down at Em's place Tuesday afternoon."

"I don't really understand Kim," Mollie said, stirring the remains of her sundae around in the glass dish, the spoon clattering around the sides. "I like her, I really do, but she makes absolutely no sense. She just decided we were going to be friends—and now we are? Why does she like me so much?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're just a likeable person?" Embry asked. When Mollie said nothing, he sighed and continued. "Kim doesn't have a lot of close friends. Yeah, she's got Em, and then the rest of the pa—our crowd, you know, everyone you met at the bonfire, and of course Jared, but what she really wants is girlfriends."

"Why doesn't she have any? She's so cheerful and happy."

Embry sighed again. "Yeah, but she's _isolated_. She graduated a year and a half ago, and all her school friends went off to college. She wanted to go to art school, but she wasn't able to for various reasons. And then, she doesn't get off the rez much."

"Why not? And why couldn't she go to art school?"

"Kim will have to tell you that," Embry said. "I really can't answer for her."

Mollie nodded. "Ok. So, she likes me because she's lonely. And here I thought it was just my sparkling personality."

Embry laughed. "She does like that, too."

"And there are other reasons as well," Mollie said, remembering the encounter in the emergency room. "Aren't there?"

"Yes," Embry said quietly.

"But you can't explain them."

"Not yet."

"I won't wait forever," Mollie said, leaning in over the table.

"I know," Embry murmured. "I wouldn't ask you to."

Mollie abruptly switched back to the original topic. "Well, I'm glad Kim did decide to be friends with me."

"I'm glad you're glad," said Embry, relieved by the change. "Once Kim latches onto people, she doesn't let go."

"I hope she latches onto the right people, then."

"She does. Jared's a good guy, you know. And Kim's very good at reading people. You and she probably could be really good friends," Embry said. He smiled at Mollie. They were done with their ice cream now, just sitting and enjoying being together.

"It's a little funny," Mollie said with a small smile. "A week ago I didn't know your name, and now here we are. We move fast, don't we?"

"I guess so!"

"Maybe too fast," she mused.

"There's no such thing as too fast when you're in love," he said, his chocolate brown eyes boring into hers.

"Love? That's definitely a bit too . . ."

"It's not too soon, not with you."

Mollie laughed nervously. "Well, now you're scaring me!"

Embry grinned, thinking she was joking. She let it drop.

They cleared the ice cream dishes. Embry ordered two coffees to go, and then they headed back out to the truck. An hour or two had passed, so Mollie assumed that the sun, although it was now covered by a heather gray cloud bank, must be nearly overhead. The air was still delightfully chilly, and Mollie was glad she'd brought a scarf and gloves. "What next?" she asked expectantly.

"I thought maybe we'd go to the park and hang out," Embry said.

"Sounds good." Mollie smiled at him. "Are we walking?" The park was only a block or two north and east.

"Mollie, your ankle," Embry said gently.

"Yeah, I know," she grumbled, awkwardly swinging herself into the car. "It's such a pain."

"At least it's not for that long," Embry said placatingly, but with an amused twitch in the corner of his mouth.

"Six weeks," Mollie answered. "But I'll be out of the cast by Christmas."

"That's good."

"And then I'll be able to go hiking again!" Mollie said cheerfully.

"Not at two AM, please," Embry said. "I don't think I'll ever forget that."

Mollie shivered. "I'm not sure I will either. That wolf—I dreamed about him last night. I'm sure I saw him. I know it."

"And if you did?" Embry murmured, almost too low for Mollie to hear. "What then?"

"Then nothing," Mollie shrugged. "He's a wolf. They're wild. I don't know why that one was alone, or so near town, but I doubt I'll see it again." She filed away the strangled expression on Embry's face for later reference.

The truck pulled up in the small gravel lot of the park. Like everything in Forks, it was green in the summer, and green and white in the winter. There was a small, empty playground with metal slides, a teeter-totter, and two swings. Just south of that was a grassy area with tall evergreen trees and wet wooden benches. Mollie didn't have any memories of coming here as a child, but it reminded her of childhood nonetheless.

They sat in the swings, laying Mollie's crutches across the snowy wood chip ground.

"So, you said you like hiking," Embry said awkwardly.

"Yeah," Mollie answered, picking up the conversation thread. They would only work together if she tried, too. "I love hiking. I've never gone backpacking, but my mom and I always go camping for a week every spring break and two weeks every summer. She's a counselor at the middle school, so she gets school vacations off. We drove down to Point Reyes in California last summer and camped just off the beach."

"You're the outdoors type?"

"To some degree. I love plants. I think if I don't become a doctor I'll go into plant biology instead. There's just so much _green_ out here in Washington. You're surrounded by it all the time, so you learn to recognize the different types of green and appreciate the splashes of color. There's so much life in the forests, if you bother to look for it."

"Sometimes it comes looking for you even if you're not looking for it," Embry said ruefully. "I can't count the number of times I've gotten poison oak or eaten a poisonous plant from your wonderful forests."

Mollie shook her head and laughed. "You're supposed to look at the rainforest, not eat it! What, did Jake dare you?"

"Quil, actually," said Embry, grinning. "He bet me twenty bucks once, a couple years ago, that I couldn't eat an ounce of Columbian monkshood."

"Monkshood?" gasped Mollie. "Was he _trying_ to murder you?"

"Nah," said Embry, shaking his head. "He didn't know. He's kind of a moron. Me too, because, idiot that I am, I ate it."

"And what happened?" Mollie asked, wide-eyed.

"Well, obviously I'm ok," he said, gesturing at himself. "Seth was there, and he told his mom a couple days later. Sue's a nurse, so she freaked out and rushed me to the hospital."

"Doesn't monkshood poisoning usually happen only a few hours after consumption, though? You could have been dead at that point!"

"Well, yeah," Embry said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But I guess I have really strong immune system. Or constitution. Or . . . stomach, or whatever. Because when I got to the hospital and they stuffed me full of charcoal and pumped my stomach, they found that my body'd already gotten rid of the poison. There were traces of the monkshood, but neutralized. It was really weird."

"Lucky, too. So what happened to Quil?"

"Oh, he laughed his ass off, we beat each other up a bit, and he gave me the twenty bucks."

"Wow. Must be a guy thing," Molly said, shaking her head. "Why'd he bet you in the first place if he didn't know it was poisonous?"

"He thought it was funny. He's, uh, pretty fascinated with werewolves—you know, full moon and all that crap. So he was reading all these books about them and he decided that, out of all his friends, I was most like your stereotypical werewolf, so he decided to test his 'theory'."

"And back to wolves again," said Mollie.

"Sorry?" asked Embry.

"Nothing. You and your friends just always seem to be associated with wolves. I'm probably imagining it," Mollie said lightly.

"Imagining? I doubt that. It's coincidence, maybe," said Embry uncomfortably.

"Sure," said Mollie. They talked about unimportant things for a while, swinging carelessly and laughing loudly into the cold November air. It was Mollie's first date. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but it came pretty close.

* * *

Embry heard the howls just as he was dropping Mollie off, but he forced himself to ignore them for just a few minutes more, while he said goodbye and promised to call soon. Then he gritted his teeth, drove the truck just around the corner and down a side street where Mollie wouldn't be able to see it, stripped as he ran into the woods, and phased.

The packmind was in an uproar. The chaos was so awful, it took Embry several minutes to figure out what was happening. A new brother had phased.

And he was really, _really_ upset. His terrified voice wouldn't shut up for long enough for anyone to explain what had happened, and no one had managed to make him calm down.

Seth phased in a second after Embry. Immediately, he calmed the packmind with a beta-command. _Shut up and listen!_

The new brother quieted, whimpering into the sudden silence. Seth explained gently. _Werewolf._ The new brother understood.

Slowly, Seth coaxed information out of him. His name was Jace. He lived in Seattle. His parents were Quileute, but they moved away from the reservation before he was born. He didn't know where La Push was; he'd never been there.

_Where are you?_ asked the packmind. If he couldn't come to them, they would go to him.

A picture of Jace's location tumbled through. Embry stifled a growl, but he couldn't stop his growing horror from spreading through the packmind. It was an alley in South Park, the Seattle neighborhood where he, Leah, and Nick found the vampire ashes. _Seth, we have to get him out of there. Seth. Seth! Help him! Help him help him help him now!_

They were too late.

Jace smelled a sickeningly sweet stink. _It burns, _he cried. _Oh, God, what is that_?

"The stench is awful," said a musical voice, filtering through Jace's mind to his horrified brothers and sisters racing from La Push.

Jace swung his head to face the speaker. She was deathly white, Asian, tall. _Enemy. _She moved like a ghost, and she smelled dead.

"Why, it's a dog," she crooned. "A big, oversized, stinking dog."

_Enemy._

_No!_ cried the packmind, but they couldn't hold Jace back. He lunged at the vampire. Dancing away, she evaded him easily. The pack watched in horror as she attacked him, drawing blood. Then, two more vampires, males, rushed in from either side, pouncing on the wolf. _No! _

The packmind screamed in ungodly pain, seeing red, smelling blood, and it was all over. Their youngest brother was dead.

Then all hell broke loose.


	7. Requiem for a Fallen Brother

**A/N:** First, please note that the first three chapters have been edited (yes, again!) and some minor but mildly significant changes have occurred—I highly suggest you re-read those chapters. Second, I'm not going to lie, this chapter isn't exactly my favorite. But it's necessary for the plot, so bear with it.

* * *

Chapter Six: Requiem for a Fallen Brother

Seth wasn't ready. The packmind swept over him, crushing him in its fury, and all he could do was stupidly follow his brothers on their warpath. _Lion King. It's just like Lion King._

_Stop them, Seth! _He wasn't sure who shouted it. He wanted to tell him, _It's Lion King. We're stampeding._ But that didn't make any sense and he couldn't direct his thoughts anyway. He couldn't think, and his breath was choking up in his throat with big globs of vomit and bile. They should stop. They _should_.

Seth just wasn't strong enough to make them.

* * *

It was the alpha-command which brought Embry back to consciousness. He couldn't remember much of the past twenty minutes, just a blind rage.

And pain. He remembered that, too.

Jake must have just phased in when he gave the command. It was painfully powerful; there was no way in hell they could resist. Some of them tried anyway. They failed, and the pack ground to a halt.

They were in a heavily forested area forty or so miles east of La Push, Embry guessed. They'd run forty miles in fifteen minutes, which in other circumstances he might have found impressive.

Now he just felt stupid.

Jake exerted his alpha power again to mentally lasso his pack and drag them back to the rez. Some of the wolves resisted, but Jake's stronger mind crushed them all easily. Twenty-five minutes later they were in La Push, in a clearing near the Uley house, dealing with one extremely pissed off alpha.

_The hell were you doing, Seth! _Jake shouted. Yes, he knew about Jace. But Seth shouldn't have let the pack fly apart like that. _You're my beta. Man up and lead._

_If he hadn't panicked, Jace would still be alive, _snarled Paul. _You call that a beta?_

_ And who do you think could've done better? a_sked Leah. _You, I suppose._

_Maybe!_ Paul said angrily.

Seth stayed silent the entire time, staring miserably at the ground as the pack divided into factions attacking and defending him. They jumped on Jake too—they had needed their alpha, and _he had't been there_.

Embry watched, bewildered, as the pack disintegrated into argument. He hated the divisions in this new pack. It seemed no matter how long they worked together, the old lines remained. Things had been so much easier before the split, under Sam.

Embry only realized he'd projected the last bit through the packmind when he felt Jake's mental wince. _Shit, Jake, I only meant that—_

_Don't apologize,_ the alpha commanded roughly.

Embry phased human so no one could see his confused thoughts, then walked away from his fighting brothers and into the woods.

It was true; things _had_ been easier under Sam. He hadn't been a better alpha than Jake, but everything had just been so simple. Vampires were bad. Killing them was good. Pack was brotherhood. Imprints were special.

That was all still true, of course, but with exceptions and mitigating circumstances and, worst of all, pack politics.

Sam had stopped phasing two years ago with the birth of his and Emily's first child. He'd meant for Jared, his beta, to take over his pack, but it hadn't worked out that way in the end. The instant Sam gave up phasing for good, his pack had attached itself to Jake. The other alpha hadn't meant to grab Sam's pack; it just happened.

When the packs were recombined, the original dominance structures had been destroyed completely. Jared and Leah went down in the rankings; Paul and Embry, up.

Most surprising of all was Seth. He was a Clearwater, descended from Taha Aki through the female line. He never should have been beta.

But he was. Embry could only trust that the packmind knew what it was doing.

And now he didn't really want to think anymore.

There was a soft padding noise behind him. Embry turned slowly. It was Nick, the specked blond wolf with paws too big for his body. The wolf retreated behind an oversized spruce and reappeared seconds later, human again, in dirty cutoff jeans.

"Why are you following me?" Embry asked.

"I'm not," Nick answered immediately.

"Right." Embry turned away from Nick and began walking out of the woods. The other werewolf trailed behind him. "Are you following me now?"

"No," said Nick, grinning.

They walked until they reached Embry's house. Staring at different spots on the ground, they stood awkwardly on the front porch for a minute. "You want to crash on the couch tonight?" Embry offered finally.

Nick hesitated for a moment, and Embry briefly wondered if he was going to accept. Then he snorted and ducked away. "No fucking way, man," he called over his shoulder as he half-ran back towards the trees.

Embry shrugged, then opened the door and went in. He left the door unlocked just in case. Late that night he heard a muffled crash and hurried footsteps downstairs, and when he woke up at one, Nick was sprawled across the living room futan.

The older shapeshifter left him there as he left for patrol. When Embry returned at seven, Nick was gone, the blankets and pillows scattered in a studied disarray.

* * *

The high noon sun was visible from the rooftop. A concentration of rainclouds loomed in the northeast, but above Seattle the sky was a seamless blue.

Anastasia crouched low under an oversized satellite dish. The rooftop pigeons had flapped away in a screaming rush when the ancient vampire appeared, but masses of wet and dried poop, layered with ugly gray feathers, remained.

Emelyan was hunting again. They should have left the city two days ago, but Emelyan loved Seattle. Victoria farther north was probably safer, though Anastasia hadn't cared enough to argue.

But she was keeping an eye on Butterfly's coven.

She liked the young Vietnamese vampire, but she didn't trust her a bit. Especially not around Emelyan, whom Butterfly counted as the bigger threat. If the coven could take him out they probably would.

Butterfly and the two males, one of whom was her mate, didn't seem to have a permanent home. They spent nights hunting recklessly, mostly preying on the homeless and poor, and days crammed into a narrow, dark alley between the backs of two cheap apartment buildings.

Anastasia watched them from the rooftop. She wasn't worried about being seen, even when she left the cover of the dish for a better look at the coven below. The sunlight scattered brilliantly on her pale skin, which acted as a prism, throwing faint rainbow glows on the dirty concrete.

She stretched to her full height, just under five feet, standing on the very edge. A tip forward would send her tumbling to the ground—but then, she would land on her feet, crouched and ready to fight. If a cat had nine lives, a smart vampire had millions.

Counting on her gift to conceal herself, Anastasia ran across the rain gutter. A cool, slippery green algae lined the inside. It squished through her toes, clinging to her smooth marble skin. She dived over the edge of the roof, catching hold of the aluminum downspout and contorting herself around it. Freezing for a minute, she watched the three vampires in the alley, then let go of the pipe and dropped a solid three stories, stopping herself with a one-handed grab at maybe thirty feet off the ground.

Below, Butterfly abruptly cut off her mumbled conversation with her mate. She glanced, startled, at the alley entrance. Perhaps she suspected something. At any rate, she didn't even look at the pipe where Anastasia silently watched. The older vampire hadn't expected her to. Anastasia's gift was a useful one; she deflected attention. If she didn't want to be seen, a searcher would have a hard time focusing his mind on her. It was a blessing many times over, although it hadn't helped Anastasia the one time it really mattered.

_Anastasios. Resurrection._

Only a fool would so consider this undead half-life. But then, no one had ever accused Anastasia's creator of possessing great intelligence. Only unnatural control and perverted religious fervor.

Butterfly and the blond male resumed the mumbled discussion. Anastasia was close enough to hear, but the subject was uninteresting. She kept an ear open, anyway, but the larger part of her mind drifted.

The two males were clearly very young. The bulky blond, Butterfly's mate, was barely more than a newborn. His jerky, uncontrolled movements betrayed his youth. He had a chiseled face and thick neck, with muscular arms and a broad chest. A small growth of a beard covered his chin all the way to his ears.

Hidden a short distance away in an empty dumpster, the other male sprawled lazily. He was dark and slim, with a weak chin and sharply triangular face. He'd been in the exact same position as long as Anastasia had been watching and showed no signs of that changing.

Anastasia didn't think much of it at first when the boy walked into the alley. He was human; he'd probably get eaten, but what of it? Humans reproduced like rabbits. There were always more to take the place of whatever the vampires killed.

He was a scurrying ant, and Butterfly was about to crush him. Anastasia watched eagerly. She hadn't yet seen the young vampire hunt, but she wanted to very much.

The human, an oversized, dark-skinned youth, couldn't see the vampires yet. He was shaking violently, casting hateful looks at the sunlit street behind him. Was that what humans did when upset? Anastasia couldn't remember.

A nasally female voice called from nearby, "Jace! Jace! I didn't mean it!" The human male shrank into the depths of the alley, shaking even more violently than before, if that was possible. A minute later a young human woman ran past the alley entrance. She peered in briefly as she passed, but the darkness was uninviting and she didn't see her quarry, so she moved on.

Anastasia watched Butterfly rise fluidly. The Vietnamese woman crouched low, shook in anticipation, prepared to spring—

Then something happened that neither of them had expected. The shaking human gave a guttural roar and _exploded_. Anastasia scuttled up the pipe in fright as Butterfly, shocked, sprang backwards.

A giant wolf stood where the human had been. Anastasia went cold in fear.

Once before she'd encountered Children of the Moon, in Scotland, long before she met Emelyan. She'd barely escaped with her life. Children of the Moon—pah. They were demonic creatures, and the moon had no hold over them. The Volturi were fools if they thought they'd stamped them out. Anastasia hadn't been back to the British isles since that sixteenth century encounter in Sutherland.

_She was hiding in the churchyard, the wolf indiscriminately upturning graves in his mad search. He wouldn't find her in the end, but oh, the fear—_

They were all the same, monsters.

Anastasia watched as Butterfly and her coven taunted, attacked, and killed the wolf. For one brief, fleeting moment the beast looked directly at her and they made eye contact. That confused and frightened the old vampire; he couldn't have known she was there.

When he finally died, the body blurred and morphed into its previous human form, now broken and bloodied. Anastasia hadn't ever seen a werewolf die before, but she supposed this was normal.

The alley smelled disgusting, like a wet dog but far stronger. Although the werewolf's blood was pooling all around his body, Anastasia didn't feel any bloodlust. She wondered if it tasted as bad as it smelled. Slithering down the last fifty feet of aluminum pipe, she ran to the body and slid her hand into the largest, gaping wound. It pulled out dripping with dark red. _Disgusting_.

The Seattle coven commented noisily over the size and smell of their kill, then meandered out of the alley. Anastasia supposed they would look for a cleaner-smelling resting place; the stench of the body was ridiculously overpowering.

The werewolf's young face was a stark contrast to his destroyed body. He was maybe twenty at most, indigenous, innocently handsome. _And very dead._

Anastasia rearranged his arms to cover the worst of the injuries—there were large, gaping wounds on either side of his chest, his ribs crushed in and his heart pulverized by two granite fists. "Until we meet again, brother!" she whispered, suddenly filled with a lost spirit of her first life. Hadn't she been a Christian, a Gnostic?

_Anastasios. Resurrection._

They would meet again on the judgement day, all of them. This time, it would be her hands which tore his head from his shoulders and ripped out his heart. Eighteen centuries she'd been owed that kill—eighteen centuries bearing his stolen name, and waiting.

_I've waited long enough._

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you TearsOnTheRiver, NarutoQueen, Lady Syndra, Crazygirl8243, BooBoo33, Dreamcatcher94, Just one randomgirl, purplecheer14, chickentikka99, sincerelyerinn, wolfhappiness, LeahLUVER, AnnechanB, Tatie1984, I Am Switzerland101, ADORATIO, SundaySolis, LeahLuver, EleanorGg, Live To Ride, designersimmidutta, Beckylovex, lani'sworld, YellowTigger, Kago of the Funk, TimeTurnsFlamesToEmbers, caleb's babe, happinie93, Sefaltreal, Iamsumbody, Mercury-Serenity, mkc120, lovesong101, BrookeBelikov, LoneWolfPack, Baloo18, kyra3015, miramisa90212, Vccle10, 1h2a34, Blue Moonstones, weasleytemper, BVBride12, PrincessDripDrop, awesomeami316, completelyrae, sunshineandstars, ms unpredictable2000, Malaya1, Kimmyy93, betzen84, Alicewrotethis, Azn-Wemo, foxface333ChocolateLabrador, cullensrule, Caspergirl523, AnnyJackson19, The Dark side of the Mind, ChelseaDagger14, BreakingFree2015, Alaina08, and ChristinaAguileraFan.

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